Love Thy Enemy
by RedNovember
Summary: [ZK AU] The mighty Fire Empire rules the entire world, after they conquered it a century ago. Now, almost a hundred years later, a tiny tribe of rebels have sent Katara, an undercover assassin, to kill the Fire Emperor Zuko.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I do not remember my mother or father. I do not remember their faces, their voices, or their touch. They are two of the most important people I should have been able to know and love like so many other children, but never did. They are non-existent entities, two faceless, mindless ghosts I never met.

I do not long for them.

For how can one miss what one never had?

I remember the Master and the Mistress. It would be applying an unneeded emotional attachment to say that they were my figurative "parents". However, they were certainly two of the most important guiding adults in my early life. They found my brother and I, took us in, fed us, clothed us, and sheltered us. They taught me many things that would determine the course of my life. I'm not sure, to this day, whether there was any love involved. Mayhap it had just been a situation that benefited both of our needs.

I remember Suki. She was the Master and Mistress's daughter, and my earliest playmate during my childhood.

I remember my brother Sokka. There is probably something to be said about him being the only surviving blood relative I had, but being brother and sister renders all the rest of it meaningless.

I remember Kyoshi Island, my one true home. I have no memories of a life before Kyoshi. It encompassed my whole world as a child.

Although I knew from an early age that I had not been born there, I grew up expecting that I would live there until I died of old age. I would participate in all the old traditions of the Island, and would marry a boy who would give me children to continue the surviving population.

We were an illegal people. The last outpost of a surviving rebel group still foolishly resisting Fire Empire rule. It wasn't till I was older that I realized how stupid we all were. Kyoshi had all of five thousand residents and supporters on that tiny island. The Fire Empire had the rest of the world. Really, how could we resist their might? Our warriors, trained in our traditional manner, were among the best in the world. But what were a few highly-capable fighters against an enormous army of millions that the Fire Empire possessed?

It wasn't something that concerned me overmuch as a child. It was the Master and Mistress's duty to contemplate large problems such as that. I focused on playing and sleeping and eating, ignorant of the matters of the world.

It was probably the greatest gift anybody could ever give me. The gift of a carefree childhood life, unburdened with responsibilities and worries.

No such life lasts forever.

* * *

"You _can't_ play with us, Sokka." Suki said confidently, sitting on the straw mat next to me. I twined a piece of my doll's straw hair around my index finger and said nothing. Suki was the leader, the big kid, and made all the important decisions, like the rules which governed our playtime. 

"Why not?" Sokka whined. He was a dark figure in the doorway of bright light. He shifted, one foot scratching the back of the other leg.

"Because you have boy germs!" Suki laughed, making her own doll leap through the air until it came to a rest next to mine. "Right, Katara?"

I was silent. I didn't like choosing sides. I never did. I wanted so badly to play with Suki, because she was a year older than me, and I thought she was an idol worth worshipping. But the rejected expression on my brother's face hurt as well.

"Maybe…" I whispered. "Maybe Sokka could be the guard soldier for the dolls. To protect them from the monsters."

I held my breath, waiting for something to happen. Would Suki sniff in derision and abandon me? Would Sokka dismiss my idea as a stupid one?

But before I could say anything, Sokka had bounded over happily from the door, and sat down next to us with a twig in his hand. He gave it a shorter stick to wave around as a sword.

Suki opened her mouth to protest, but seemed to change her mind and just sighed exasperatedly, before nodding in reluctant acceptance. I let out a sigh of relief, glad the situation had been resolved. All three of us resumed playing on the sunlit, mat-covered floor of the small house.

Sokka was seven, Suki six, and myself five. I felt content, sitting there in the warm sunlight with my best friend and my only sibling.

This was my childhood. A happy existence muddled only by playtime quarrels. This bright life of mine had been mine forever, since a soldier on patrol had found my brother and I washed up on the shore of Kyoshi Island Our ages were not definitive, but the Kyoshi residents guessed that at the time, I was three, and my brother give. We didn't have a real birth date, so we celebrated getting one year older the same day Suki celebrated hers.

We were undeniably lucky. The Master and Mistress of Kyoshi Island, Suki's parents, magnanimously took us in and fed, clothed, and sheltered us. My brother and I had escaped a watery death in the ocean, and ended up in the care of the two leaders of the Kyoshi tribe. We were lucky to not have been found by Fire Empire soldiers. They would have left two fatherless babies for dead. Abandoned orphans had no family honor and prestige. If we had been left behind by our own parents, then obviously something was wrong with us.

We were never raised with that sort of idea on Kyoshi. We were valued and treated equally by everybody. The fact that we had no parents was overlooked most of the time. If we got into trouble, we were disciplined by the Master and Mistress. If we got hurt, the Island healer took care of us kindly. We received the exact same education every other child got. The usual reading and writing lessons, along with some calculating and most important of all, war training.

* * *

"Ow!" Sokka complained loudly from his sprawled position on the sandy beach. He'd been thrown to the ground not a second before by a now-triumphant Suki, who stood over him with her wooden sword. We weren't allowed to use real weapons until we passed our novice training. Suki had just executed an impressive move that Instructor Tzan had taught us earlier that week. 

"Serves you right for not blocking it correctly!" Suki taunted my brother, while at the same time helping him up from the ground. "You were too slow on the upswing."

Sokka knew she was right, and scowled before brushing off his clothes and they both got back into position.

I sat on a piece of driftwood a bit further up the beach, watching them and waiting for my turn to practice. We had just gotten out of lessons for the day, and we were all eager to begin practicing our new swordfighting techniques. Starting from the age of nine, every child on Kyoshi was trained in the arts of war. Sokka had started a year earlier than Suki and I. I technically wasn't supposed to start my lessons until next year, for I was still eight years old, but I had been allowed to join because I wanted to be in the same class and level as Suki.

Sokka had a year's experience on the both of us, so that's why he was so rankled when Suki defeated him with a move that he should have mastered his first year.

A flurry of sand rose in the air as the two charged at each other, swinging wildly. I watched them quietly, sitting under the bright blue sky. It was more of a game to all of us than anything else.

Soon enough, Suki had disarmed my brother again, and shouted that it was my turn. Sokka growled and came to sit down next to me on the log while I rose up with my wooden sword to fight Suki.

I moved into the fighting stance that had been the first thing Instructor Tzan had taught us, and waited for Suki to make the first move. The wooden sword was a bit heavy and ungainly in my hand, but I was quickly becoming used to its weight. Suki treated the sword like it was an extra extension of her arm. We'd started training at the same time, but she was already far beyond my own ability, and quickly catching up to my brother.

I barely blocked one of her wilder swings, quickly swiping a piece of my dark hair out of my eyes. Her eyes were intent as she came at me again, and I stepped backwards to lessen most of the blow.

Before I knew it, I was reeling over into the ocean water, with Suki's sword coming straight at my face. I could do nothing to block it, as my sword was stuck in the wet sand.

Something inside my chest burst forth, and in a moment of utter desperation, I flung my free arm forward, pulling at _something_, I didn't know what, and a clear liquid splash hit Suki straight in the face. Crying out in surprise she keeled over, waving her arms wildly through the air, batting at some unknown enemy.

The entire beach was silent except for my harsh breathing. Suki stared at me in shock, and Sokka had stood up from his sitting position.

I looked at the dark stain of water seeping into Suki's robes and wetting the sand beneath her.

"What – What was _that_?" She whispered, eyes still wide.

I shook my head hard.

"Yeah Katara, what was that?" Sokka asked quietly.

I shook my head again.

"I don't know." I said. My voice seemed to be coming from somewhere far away.

A determined expression came over Suki's face. She stood up, brushing the sand from her shirt. "Do it again." She ordered.

I too, wanted to know if it had been a fluke. Maybe some sea animal had chosen that opportune moment to squirt water at Suki.

I waved my hands over the ocean water lapping at my feet. I felt incredibly foolish, and was sure I looked like a complete idiot. Some part of me wanted that water to be an accident, but another part of me, a deeper part, knew it was no accident.

Nothing happened. I put my hands firmly next to my sides again. The water continued to move in its regular way.

"Maybe it was just a fish." Sokka suggested. I began to nod and agree with him, when Suki cracked her sword against my side. I cried out in pain and jumped back. She followed, swinging her wooden weapon at my head.

I leaped back and forth, trying to avoid her advances. My sword was still stuck in the sand. "What are you doing, Suki?" I yelled.

She didn't answer, but determinedly kept hacking at my body. I was sure she had gone insane.

Suki grabbed the blunt edge of the wooden blade and shoved the long wood up under my chin, forcing my head back and cutting off my air supply. She was stronger and slightly larger than I, so I could do nothing but keep stepping backwards into the waves. She forced the sword higher, causing bright flashes of pain to rocket through my skull.

That roiling mass in my chest rose again, and both my hands automatically shot up and swung at Suki's face.

But it wasn't my arms that connected with her surprised expression. Instead, it was two geysers of ocean water.

Spluttering, she let go of the sword and fell back, coughing, onto the sand.

I looked at my hands in amazement. It had just happened again.

Sokka gave Suki a hand up. Wiping the water out of her eyes, she examined me carefully. "It only happens when she's threatened." My friend remarked.

"Some kind of defense mechanism." Sokka mused.

"I think I should see the Mistress." I said quietly.

All three of us agreed silently and gathered up our things. We trekked back over the sands dunes to the village, not speaking a word to each other.

We arrived at the largest building in the village, and walked up the steps to knock on the screen door. A man dressed in a trainee's clothes opened it for us and silently let us in. This was where the Master and Mistress spent most of their days, overseeing important matters concerning the welfare of the island. It was not their family house, but the administrative building for the village. All three of us children were not familiar with it.

The man who led us through the building stopped at an ornate screen door and opened it, revealing the Mistress sitting before a low table in the ceremonial green robes of her position. She put down her brush, and motioned us inside. The man left, shutting the screen quietly behind him.

We knelt in front of the table, Suki and Sokka on either side of me.

"Something happened on the beach today." Suki spoke up first.

Her mother gazed at us patiently. I was used to her painted white face by now. I had never seen her without the traditional make-up on. It was part of her position, a tradition that had been handed down since the Avatar Kyoshi had lived. And that was a very long time ago.

I glanced down at my hands in my lap. Sometimes the Mistress's expressionless face scared me. Even though she was my guardian.

"Katara… Katara did something with the water." Sokka said quietly.

"What exactly?" The Mistress said. Her voice was calm, neutral, perfectly patient. But it almost made you feel that she didn't particularly like you. She didn't hate you, but she didn't favor you. It was not a warm mother's voice.

"She made it move with her hands." Suki explained, trying to copy my earlier movements. "She made it so the water attacked me while we were sparring."

Nothing changed in Mistress's expression.

After an uncomfortable silence for five minutes, she dismissed Suki and Sokka.

I wanted to leave with them as they headed out the door, sneaking encouraging glances back at me. I did not want to stay in a room alone with the Mistress.

She unrolled a scroll from under her desk, and set it on top where I could see it. Four brightly painted figures were on the paper, each with a different word next to it. I read it silently to myself. Fire, Earth, Air, and Water. Each miniature figure was in the motion of controlling the element written next to them.

It wasn't a surprise to me. The Fire Empire had mastery of the fire element, as everyone well knew. It was their greatest weapon, something that had allowed them to conquer the world.

The old Earth Kingdom was no more. They were all second-class citizens who served the Fire Empire. Many of their people had been killed in the last battle, and the remaining population lead no better lives. A sort of segregation had been imposed on the world. Fire people were nobility, and the Earth people served them. It had been that way ever since Lord Zuko the first had conquered the great cities of the Earth Kingdom. The Earth people had no freedom, and from birth they served their masters.

The Air Nomads were dead. They had been dead since the last Avatar, Aang, had died, over a century ago. They were utterly extinct.

And so were the Water Tribes. At the same time he had enslaved the Earth benders, Lord Zuko had exterminated the Water benders. Some say he had gone crazy when his Water bender wife had died, leaving him a slightly deformed son. He took his insanity and used it to annihilate every last man, woman, and child in the Water Tribes. There had been none left.

Until now.

My finger rubbed the picture of the Water bender gently.

The Mistress looked at me with her dark eyes.

"Do you know what this means?" Her calm voice asked me.

I nodded. What more was there to say?

"If only… If only we knew who your parents were." The Mistress said.

I wished to know as well, probably more than the Mistress did. Had my parents been renegades who were descended from Water benders who had, somehow, escaped the mass killings? Was that how this ability was passed down to me?

Before I left her presence, Mistress gave me several more scrolls to read over. They were antique, curling and yellow at the edges. Every single one of them had detailed teachings about Water bending. I held them as if they were sacred objects.

"We have no teachers who could teach you what you need to know." The Mistress said, shutting the screen door behind me. "You're on your own."

* * *

I sat on the beach, incidentally the same one I'd been at when I had discovered my ability, four years ago. By now, I'd pored through every single reference the Mistress had given me that pertained to my situation. After extensive, constant practice, I had perfected most of them. There was a hunger, a desperation in me that wanted to know more and more and more about the water. After I'd used every resource from the scrolls, I set out to discover my own techniques and forms. 

A loop of water swirled through the air after my index finger. I dipped it and twisted it absentmindedly while the rest of the ocean lapped at my toes. It was almost effortless now, my control of liquid.

I could hear someone running through the sand behind me. It was Suki, I knew, because her footsteps were lighter. She slapped my shoulder as she neared, and I reluctantly dropped my water.

"Time for training!" She yelped, and set off back towards the village.

Soon enough, we both arrived at the training barracks, and began our early morning practice. Suki had already gotten out her sword, and my brother was on the other side of the field, throwing his boomerang.

Although we were required to be able to use all weapons, everybody had their favorite, the one they preferred to use. For Suki, that was her metal-bright sword. She enjoyed the close combat, the whirl and clang of metal as the sword met the adversary, again and again. It wasn't just a _sword_ to her, it was a longer piece of her arm.

My brother preferred the boomerang, and he wasn't bad with it either. I could never figure out how to get it to come back to me after hitting my target. My aim wasn't bad, but the boomerang never fell back into my arms. Sokka seemed to call it to him, and it returned home every time, like a faithful dog. He said it was something about the angle and the speed which combined to have the boomerang skip off the target and return straight to your hands. I never understood.

Because I had such good aim, my Instructor advised archery at first for me. I hit almost all the targets, but the hassle of a bow and arrow never appealed to me. I didn't like relying on a piece of wood and string to send my weapon singing into the red bull's eye. I liked using my own hands and arms. I didn't like using extra equipment that required so much time spent oiling and stringing and bending the bow.

The knives were for me. Short, medium, long. The solid feel of wood and metal in my hand, and the swing as it left my palm and went sailing, whirling through the air until it sunk hilt-deep into the wood of a tree. And they were so easy to hid, especially the small ones. Swords, boomerangs, bow and arrow. Those you had to carry out where everyone could see what you possessed. The knives I could hide in my sleeves, on my legs, in my shoes, under my shirt. I could conceal them so that no one knew what deadly sharpness I had on my body, and I could slip them out and have them in the bull's-eye in less than two seconds, without any of the usual banging and grunting that accompanied other weapons.

Secret and silent and quick. An assassin's weapons.

After training, Suki and I crept up against the dividing wall that separated our novice training field from the warriors'. Peering over the stone, we watched with an almost worshipful air at the green figures on the field below us. They moved as one, practicing advanced moves that hopefully, one day, Suki and I would learn.

"Four more years for me." Suki sighed. "Four more years until I can wear the green robes and the white paint."

"Five for me." I said, a bit disgruntled. Sometimes I hated being the youngest out of our trio.

"Sokka only has three more years until he joins the men's faction." Suki remarked, looking west to where the men's training barracks were. The men's division was much like the women's, except with different traditions and uniforms.

"He's really excited about it." I said, watching the figures spar below us.

"Imagine his expression if he doesn't past the test!" Suki shrieked in laughter. "Wouldn't that be just horrible?"

"He'll pass." I said confidently.

Suki rolled her eyes. "Of _course_. I know that. I was just kidding." Sokka was the best in his age group, just as Suki was the best in hers. I was second, but only because I trained in the same level as Suki did. It never bothered me that she was a better fighter. It was just the way things had always been. Always.

Even though no one said it, everyone knew by now that Suki was the heir for leadership once Master and Mistress retired or died. Not only were they her parents, and it was required of her to keep the bloodline going, but she was an adept fighter and studious in academics. A perfect next Mistress.

As for the heir to Master, that was still being decided. But I had my suspicions already.

* * *

I was elated and felt happier than I ever had in my life. Sokka had come out of the Initiation House triumphant and yelling, "I'm in! _I passed!_" 

The crowd outside had erupted into mass cheers and congratulations. Sokka had been whisked off by senior members of the male warriors, to the ceremony that would put him, for the first time, in the official uniform and armor of a warrior.

Suki and I had clasped hands and crowed for joy outside. The festivities had been launched and everyone was in a good mood. The initiation of men and women into the warrior caste was an occasion of celebration for everyone. It was a great party that honored the new warriors and wished them good luck and a long life.

The long life part never rang true. They were warriors after all, and warriors were expected to kill, and eventually be killed. It was an ironic celebration of life, and of death.

But we all enjoyed it while we could. Parents cried and laughed with pride at their children who had achieved the highest honor, the ability to defend Kyoshi Island. Those parents could be crying with sorrow and grief not a year later, when the dead bodies of their offspring came home. Sometimes the bodies were never found. Most all of the time, the bodies that did come back were blackened and singed by fire beyond recognition.

I moved through the crowd, people patting me on the back and congratulating me for my brother's success. They all asked, "You'll be next in no time, hm, Katara? Good luck to you when you do!"

Two more years left until I too, could take the initiation test. It was a secret rite of passage that _no one_ spoke of. If you had passed and experienced it, you still didn't tell others. It would be blasphemy to do so. It was probably the most important tradition of Kyoshi Island.

Somehow, I got separated from Suki. I looked for her through the crowd of heads talking and laughing. I wasn't a short girl – in fact, I was one of the tallest ones in my age group, taller than some of the boys. But I still couldn't see her anywhere.

Finally escaping from the edge of the celebrating crowd, I loped along the beach after I spotted a pair of footprints that looked to be around Suki's size. Where had she gone? We usually went _everywhere_ together, being the best of friends. Most of the times Sokka hung out with us as well, completing our perfect trio.

I followed the footprints until I came to a copse of trees at the edge of the beach, and something, something in me told me to _stop_ and not go any further. I peered silently though the leaves, and spotted two figures on the other side of the trees.

It was Suki, and my brother.

How queer. He should have been in the barracks, getting ready for his first spar as a warrior, and getting to know his fellow soldiers.

I couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, but Suki said something in a low voice, and a red blush appeared on my brother's cheeks.

I was confused. What was going on? They were standing awfully close together. One of my earliest suspicions burst into life again. Impossible.

Then Suki leaned in on her toes, and kissed my brother. It was not a sisterly kiss on the cheek, or a friend-to-friend affectionate peck.

Then Sokka pulled her in closer, into his arms. She wrapped her own arms around his shoulders.

I didn't want to see anymore. I stumbled backwards silently, and turned to run back along the beach, back the way I'd come.

For some reason, I felt horribly betrayed. I felt like crying. This was so stupid. So stupid. I wasn't jealous, that was for sure. Sokka was my brother, and Suki was my best friend. I wanted the best for both of them. But I wanted it in a way that I would be included.

I wasn't jealous that someone had kissed my brother, or that someone had kissed my best friend. I was jealous that my brother and my best friend had kissed.

I was utterly hurt because we'd always done things together, the three of us. We played together, got in trouble together, grew up together.

And now, here they were, involved in something that I would never be able to be a part of.

I knew they would be happy together. I knew Suki would choose Sokka to be the Master's heir. And I knew the Master and Mistress would choose him to be Suki's partner as well. He was a fine, upstanding young man who would take leadership happily. Suki and Sokka would be the perfect pair to lead the island. They were both great fighters and intelligent people. Everybody knew who they were, and everybody loved them.

I wondered what my place in this would be.

I wanted desperately to be a part of something. My brother and Suki were destined for greatness, to be the next leaders of Kyoshi Island. They would make hard decisions for the good of the people. I wanted to serve as well. I wanted to do something worthwhile, something that would save lives.

What would happen to me?

#()()#() border border #()()#()())(

Another year passed, and Suki went through the initiation for the women warriors. She passed, as was expected of her, and great festivities continued long into the night in her honor. I was happy for her, extremely happy. When she emerged from the Initiation House, she leapt into my brother's arms, and to the delight of the crowd, they kissed in front of everyone. Everybody sighed at the romantic and hopeful sight of two young people in love. They were the joy and pride of Kyoshi Island.

As the dancing and feasting and singing slowly died down, Sokka and Suki received a summons to see the Master and Mistress in the building. Curiously, I was also invited to go along.

As soon as we stepped into the cool inside of the house, the outside noises disappeared and all three of us walked down the hallway. I flashed back to when, eight years ago, the three of us had walked down this same corridor to see the Mistress. At that time, the problem had been myself and my strange new ability to Water bend. That had been back when we were younger, shorter, and utterly ignorant about life.

Now, eight years later, only two things had changed. We were all older and taller.

The screen door slid aside, and we walked in before kneeling before the low table. Master and Mistress sat behind it and stared at us calmly.

When we rose to face them, I realized that I was the only one in the room dressed in normal, civilian garb. Suki, Sokka, Mistress, and Master were all dressed in the adult dress that came with the initiation into the warrior caste. It made me feel… excluded.

Next year, I told myself. Next year I'll be part of them. When I turn seventeen, I'll pass my test, and I'll be a part of them again.

The Master spoke up. His deep voice resonated throughout the room.

"Congratulations on your initiation, Suki." He said. There was a warm in his voice that I'd never heard before.

Suki bowed low again. "Thank you, father."

"We are very proud of you, my daughter." Mistress said. There was a glow of affection on her face, the first time I'd ever seen anything other than the usual neutrality. It was also the first time I'd heard Mistress refer to Suki as her daughter in front of us.

A horrible, stabbing feeling hit my chest. I was envious of Suki. I wished that Master would talk to _me_ affectionately. I wished Mistress would look at _me_ affectionately.

Master and Mistress turned to my brother. He glowed under their praise. The words and what they said are unnecessary. It is the way they said it, the expression on their faces, the warmth in their voices, that made it all matter.

Mistress turned her face to me, and somehow I felt cold. "Katara. One more year of training is left to you before your initiation. Make sure that year is not wasted."

I tried not to cry, and my voice came steady. I had control. At sixteen years old, I had control. "Yes, Mistress."

I was dismissed then, because Master and Mistress had things to tell Sokka and Suki that involved their inheritance and future lives. It had nothing to do with me.

I left, and slowly trudged back to the beach. Most of the festivities were over by now, the celebrants having left.

Once in the water, I let myself go. I only cried when I was in the ocean. Because then I could pretend that I wasn't crying, that the salty water on my face came from the ocean.

_Make sure that year is not wasted_. Mistress's voice echoed in my head as I rose out of the water to dry myself off. The bright light of the full moon shone down on me. I would not waste that year. I would train harder than I had ever trained in my life. I would pass initiation, and Mistress and Master would speak to me like I was their daughter.

I would be someone who deserved a mother and father.

* * *

The big day started when Suki shook me awake in the bright light of morning. 

"Wake up, Katara!" She hissed, unable to contain her excitement. "Wake up!"

I was out of my bed in less than a second.

Suki smoothed my hair down for me as I sat, trembling, on the side of the bed to dress. "Are you ready? Are you nervous? Are you excited?" She asked me, a smile on her face.

I just shook my head. "I might throw up." I whispered.

She laughed. "You'll be fine. I know you'll pass. You won't have a single problem."

I caught her hand. She was like a big sister to me. I had learned to accept her and my brother's relationship, and almost welcomed it, indeed. Once they were married, Suki would be sister to me in name as well as emotion.

"Give me a hint, Suki! Warn me about what I'll need to do." I was desperate. I'd waited for this day my entire life.

She laughed and shook my hand off her arm. "You know that's against the rules! I can't tell you a thing, Katara, and I won't. I just know that you're going to be fine."

I nodded mutely, and we stood.

Once we left the house, sunlight poured onto my face, and the crowds lining the side of the street cheered and roared as I came out. They waved and yelled all the way up to the Initiation House, were Suki finally let go of my arm. I wondered where Sokka was. I wanted to hug him and have him reassure me that I'd be fine.

Suki hugged me and whispered in my ear, "You'll be absolutely fantastic." Then she broke away, leaving me on the steps of the House to join the crowd. Her happy face was all that anchored me to the earth. Where was Sokka?

The screen door opened, and an emotionless warrior directed me inside. Where was my brother? I cast one last glance over my shoulder as the door slid shut. Where _was he?_

My entire body trembled as I followed that warrior down the hallway. I had no idea what to expect. An entire life of watching others pass into this house, and I had no idea what was going to happen. A spar, to prove my fighting abilities? A written test where I had to calculate numbers? I passage to read out loud? An essay I had to write?

The screen door slid open in front of me, and the warrior bowed me in.

I stepped over the threshold, and saw the interior of the room.

The Mistress sat behind a low wooden table.

Numb, I walked forward, knelt and bowed in the usual manner, and sat up to stare into her calm white face.

We gazed at each other across the surface of a wooden table, and across the gulf of seventeen years of life.

Neither of us said anything for the longest, longest time. The initiation couldn't possibly be a _staring_ contest, could it?

"Do you know who the Fire Emperor is?" Her calm voice filled the room.

I couldn't help the shock and surprise that engulfed my face. It was just so unexpected. So unbelievable that she would ask me that stupid of a question on the day of my initiation! Was this a test? Was this all I needed to do in order to pass? Worse yet, was it a trick question?

"Emperor Zuko II." I replied, throat scratchy and dry. Was this it?

She nodded slowly, her blank white face revealing nothing.

"Do you know why he was named after his famous predecessor?"

I swallowed hard. Everybody knew it. Everybody had heard of the prophecy. "Because – because he would be the one to finish what the first Zuko started."

"Emperor Zuko II is the enemy." Mistress stated.

I knew that. Everybody on Kyoshi knew _that_. "I know that."

"Good. Tell me, what would happen if the current Fire Emperor were to finish what his ancestor started?"

"We would all die." I whispered. This was why we still trained warriors on our tiny island. In order to preserve our way of life, for a small chance against the huge wave that was the Fire army. To protect ourselves from extermination. To rebel.

"Good. Tell me, what would happen if the current Fire Emperor were to find out that you, Katara, were the last surviving Water bender in the world?"

A cold fear gripped me. Somehow, I knew that this was not the usual initiation. The questions had become much to personal. "I would die."

"Good."

We sat in silence for a few more moments. My mind was racing. What was going on here?

"I assume that you know the absolute hopelessness of our situation." The Mistress said. "I assume that you know we have zero chance of defeating the Empire's armies. That our cause is a lost cause. That we are all going to die."

It was this, more than anything else, that made me pissed off. "How – how can you _say _that?" I gaped at her.

She stared calmly at me. "Is it not true?"

"No!" I all but shouted. "You think that all the people who've died for us so far, all the new warriors we've trained, all the long years of clinging to hope, are all for nothing?" My harsh breathing filled the room. "Isn't that what you and Master have been working against? Our annihilation?"

Mistress continued to gaze at my face. "It is."

I stared at her.

"But we have come to a point recently, Katara, that we operate solely on desperation. Majority of the public does not know it. Suki does not know it. But I think your brother does. Most of the scouting parties we send out do not come back, ever again. We find their charred, stinking bodies if we are lucky." Mistress stated matter-of-factly. "It's been awhile since we have made any headway into the stronghold of the Fire Empire. We are losing, Katara."

I plucked at a bit of loose straw on the ground. I couldn't look at her. It seemed my entire world had come crashing down around me. Being told by the leader of your island that you were losing the war against an age-old enemy was earth-shaking.

"There is nothing more we can do in the realm of force and might. We can keep sending out warriors, Katara, but all that's going to happen is that they'll come back dead."

She was telling me this for a reason. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I think you need to know."

I waited for the ultimatum. And it came.

"And because I think… you can do something about it."

I slowly raised my eyes to meet hers. "One Water bender can do nothing against an army of Fire benders. Even if water is fire's weakness."

"You must remember," Mistress started. "the first Lord Zuko."

"Everyone remembers him. The Insane Emperor, everyone called him. The one who led the genocide of the Water benders." _My people_, I thought. I'd never thought of them before as that. But they were. I was a Water bender, and the first Lord Zuko had killed them.

"Do you remember why he went insane?"

"His wife died."

"His wife, who was a Water bender."

She couldn't possibly be suggesting… "I'm not marrying the Fire Emperor."

"I wasn't suggesting that."

"Good. Because it would be impossible."

"Do you know what his wife's name was?"

I drew a blank.

"Katara."

"Yes?" I answered automatically.

"His wife's name was Katara."

"Why are you telling me this? Wait – why did you name me after her?" It was getting more and more confusing by the second. And I didn't get what the first Lord Zuko's wife had to do with defeating the current Fire Emperor.

"And her brother's name was Sokka. Soon after he learned of his sister's death, he escaped the Fire Empire and came to Kyoshi Island, where he married the leader of the women warriors. Her name was Suki." Mistress's pale white face regarded me silently. "They had children, who continued the Kyoshi royal line."

"Then that means – "

"It means that the Kyoshi royal family is related to the Fire Empire royalty. The current Lord Zuko and I are cousins, several times removed."

Talk about irony. "It's like a repeat of history." I said. "Suki and Sokka are going to get married soon."

"Yes."

"What has this got to do with me? Marriage is already out of the question."

"I'm giving you the opportunity to save your people." The Mistress said. "The Master and I have discussed this… and we have decided that our greatest need is… someone inside the Fire Empire."

"You mean a spy."

"We mean, more accurately," The Mistress paused here, something she'd never done before. "An assassin."

"You want me to leave home and kill the Fire Emperor." I stated, numb inside.

"What made you think – "

"I'm not stupid." I cut her off. "You're going to send me away from Kyoshi island, away from my brother and Suki, and make me join the enemy in order to kill the Fire Emperor."

"Isn't this what you wanted? An opportunity to serve Kyoshi?"

I sat there and couldn't prove her wrong. "Not this way. Not a dishonorable way."

"Serving your people is not dishonorable."

"Assassination is. Assassination is back stabbing and sneaking and lying."

"It can be if you think of it that way."

"I do."

We stared at each other. The goal I'd been working towards for so long, the initiation into the warrior caste, was out of my reach. I would not be receiving the green robes and face paint and wooden fan today. I would not be participating in the centuries old ritual that would name me a full-grown, adult woman.

"I'm not a good enough of a fighter to do this." I said. What I really meant was, why me?

"You know we can't send Suki." Mistress said.

"What about Sokka?" I was speaking out of childish spite now. I already knew the reasons why.

"You know why we can't send your brother either."

"Because they're not _expendable_." I spat out the ugly truth. "Because you can't afford to have them die."

The Mistress did not say a word. And that, more than anything else in the world, confirmed what I'd just said.

"I won't force your decision – "

"You already know my decision." I spit. She'd cornered me, manipulated me, and she knew it. She knew I would die for my brother and Suki. She knew I would feel like I owed something to her and the Master. She knew that I would think that the only way I could pay off my life debt to this island was to save them from destruction, even though it meant putting my own life on the line.

I owed the Kyoshi royal family my life, and I would repay them by risking it.

I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to step out of the Initiation House un-initiated and still a girl. I didn't want to leave my brother and Suki and enter enemy territory. I didn't want to have to kill anybody.

"Good. Then that's settled." The Mistress said. Her voice was confident and sure. She'd known she would win all along. "There are several more details we shall have to discuss. Would you like to do that now or later?"

She was giving me the option to digest the information and my decision. But I'd sit through it. I'd take it.

"I'll discuss it now."

"The absolute most important fact is-" The Mistress began.

"-Fire Emperor Zuko is the enemy."

* * *

**A/N:** New story. As for several of my old reviewers, I know you're screaming "WHAT HAPPENED TO HUNTER AND PREY?" Well it's on a hiatus, due to writer's block. I'm really sorry to say, but after I came back from my vacation, I lost all inspiration for it. But I haven't abandoned it completely yet. I just needed to get this prologue part out. It was originally going to be called "Rebirth" but I decided to change the name. So go ahead, review and give me your opinion. 

Feels weird not answering anyone's questions for once. Ah well.


	2. Beginning

**Chapter 2: Beginning**

I left Kyoshi the day I was supposed to have had my initiation. The Mistress wasn't big on wasting time.

Few on the island knew I was leaving, so there wasn't a great big farewell party of any sort. My departure and the information that went along with it was on a strict need-to-know basis. And the only people who needed to know were the Master, the Mistress, Suki, and Sokka.

I would first take a small trading ship from Kyoshi to the nearest big city port which happened to be Menthat, located in what used to be the Earth Kingdom, but was now just another province of the Fire Empire. The trip would take two weeks at the most, and then I'd have to find another ship or join a caravan that was traveling to the capital city, Kotzut. That was where I'd find my target, and join the Fire Army, which was recruiting at this time of year.

That was what the Mistress and I had discussed. I would join the army, but more specifically, a special force in the army, called the Elite Guard.

_You will join the Elite Guard. _Mistress had said. _The Elites answer directly to the Emperor, and are his own private troops. They are known for their absolute loyalty to the Emperor, and it is extremely hard to get accepted. All sorts of tests will be put upon you. A maximum of thirty people are Elites at any time. And as far as we know… no woman has ever tried to get in before. It'll be hard._

_I can do it._

_Good._

I had almost finished packing when my brother knocked on my door. I would only take a small pack with me, filled with the usual essentials. Nothing that would tie me to Kyoshi Island. Nothing of personal value. Just clothes and a bit of money.

"Come in." I called.

Sokka stepped into the room, and the entire atmosphere changed.

"You don't have to go."

"I'm doing it for you. I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut, and think grateful thoughts." My voice was emotionless. I know Sokka had been in on this plan, and there was nothing he could say that would convince me otherwise. That's why he had not been there the morning of my initiation. He'd been hiding in shame, because he'd known I wouldn't be getting what I wanted.

"You know if there had been any other way, Katara, I would be doing this, not you."

"Then _do it_! Give up your heir to Master and your engagement to Suki. Take my place, why don't you? Save the island! Save _your_ people!" My bitterness was entirely uncalled for, and I knew I would regret my words later. Still, nothing could stop the storm of words spilling out of my mouth.

"You know I can't go. You know I'm need here."

"And I'm not."

"That's not true, Katara, of course we need you – "

"You need me to assassinate your enemy for you. You need me to save your people for you."

"They're your people too."

"More yours than they'll ever be mine." We both knew that. We both knew Sokka had been the more popular one, the friendlier one, the one everyone could share a joke with. He would be much-loved as a Master, and his marriage to Suki was going to be the highlight of the summer.

I would not be here to attend it.

I was blabbering now. "Do you think they planned this, Sokka?" I stuffed my last shirt into my bag. "Do you think they planned this from the day they found us washed up on the beach?"

"Katara – "

I cut him off, and continued to rant, my vision becoming blurry. "They looked at you on the sand, and said _this one will be Master_. Then they looked at me and said _we'll use this one. We'll use her to save us and we'll make her give up her life in the process. We'll raise her as if we loved her, and then we'll push her away and send her to do our bidding._ Do you think that's what they thought, Sokka?"

"That's a horrible thing to say."

"It's the truth."

"The Master and Mistress are not like that."

"How would _I_ know?"

Sokka seemed to fumble with his words. "They're like our parents, Katara."

"They're like _your_ parents." It was an ugly, ugly sentence.

Sokka had nothing to say to that. He didn't deny it. He didn't say a thing, which made it hang in the air between us and echo in our minds. It was just as bad as him admitting it. For awhile, all that could be heard in the room were my words and the sounds of cloth shifting as I tightened the strap on my pack.

"So… so you're going?"

What was he, _retarded_? Didn't my actions speak loud enough for him? "You already know that answer to that." I spat out.

I shifted the pack so one strap caught my shoulder and I heaved it onto my back. It wasn't heavy, just unusual.

I took a moment, with Sokka standing in the doorway, to look around my room, now bare of anything important. I'd lived here for seventeen years, and now I was leaving. I breathed in deep, trying to lock the smells and sights in my mind. Dust swirled in the sunlit air before me, and everything smelled of pine trees.

Refusing to meet my brother's eyes, I hefted the bag more securely over my shoulder and walked towards the doorway. His body filled up three-fourths of it, and if I didn't do something, I would touch him as I brushed by.

I turned my body sideways at the last second, so I slid past with just a finger's width of space between us.

That space was a lifetime of empty air between us, devoid of touch.

He did not reach out to touch me.

I left that house, and didn't turn back to see if my brother watched me go.

I wouldn't see him again for a long, long time. Longer than I would have ever expected.

And that was the ending of the first part of my life. It wasn't the ending I would have chosen, but who says anybody gets to make decisions on the things that actually matter to them?

* * *

Katara stepped off the shaky wooden dock in the harbor of Kotzut, and walked with a purposeful air towards the main street. Around her were the shouts of men directing work on the docks, and merchants checking off lists of produce, and the usual bands of sailors swaggering around on deck. The salty smell of seawater permeated the atmosphere, and the bright blue sky overhead spoke of summer.

It took an immense force of will for her to step into the crowds that swirled around on the streets and alleyways of the city. She had never seen this many people together in one place in her entire life. The festivals on Kyoshi were miniscule compared to this. Hundreds of stores lined the streets on either side, sellers yelling their wares and haggling with buyers. Houses towered and swelled against the people battering against them like water against rocks. The sheer number of _buildings_ was overwhelming. Most were built with wood, in the old Fire Empire style. The more ornate ones obviously belonged to the wealthy. There were several low, earth-built huts in the smaller alleys. Those probably belonged to the lower-class Earth benders who were all but slaves to their conquerors.

And the people. All sizes and shapes and colors, dressed in thousands of different styles. Shouting and crying and laughing and talking among each other. It made Katara's head swirl just trying to focus one the people. Kyoshi had truly protected her from the real world. That tiny island was a mere dot compared to what the Fire Empire encompassed.

Pulling her mind back to her objective, Katara quickly noticed all the papers nailed to shop posts and public buildings. She ducked in close to a clothing shop in order to read one in more detail. It was the usual recruitment poster, telling anybody between the ages of 18 and 35 that the army would accept anybody, anybody at all. Even if you didn't have an education, or money, or much prestige. Even if you'd never picked up a sword in your life. Training would be provided. Report to the West Army Barracks just outside Kotzut.

"Hey girlie. You! Miss! What you be reading army posters for, eh?" The old, weather-beaten farmer in the vegetable stall next to Katara spoke up, glaring at her suspiciously. "Young girl like you, joining the army? Where's your escort? Shouldn't be out here all alone by yourself."

Katara gaped at him in surprise for a second before recovering. "Oh I'm just – I'm just waiting for my maid to finish – I'm reading this because my brother – my brother is interested – "

Realizing she was making an utter fool of herself, Katara quickly pivoted and dashed into the crowd on the streets again. Behind her, the tomato merchant merely shrugged and pushed the strange girl from his mind.

That had been a close call. Katara had forgotten the information Mistress had told her before she'd left.

_Usually women in the Fire Empire lead very sheltered lives. They aren't expected to do anything beyond grow up, get married, and have children. A few have been known to join the Army, but its not a popular option for them. Its not unheard of, but not normal either. _ _Its quite the sexist world_.

Delaying in the city, no matter how interesting it was, would only increase her chances of getting noticed and remembered. She couldn't be drawing attention to herself. Unfortunately, the mere act of her walking around outside, alone, was attracting attention.

Walking as fast as possible, Katara reached the West Gate in the great wall that surrounded the city. She joined in with a crowd that seemed like a family going on an outing. The guards at the gate looked bored and merely waved the whole group forward, Katara included.

Under the harsh light of the sun, the enormous army complex located just outside the city loomed up in her vision. Long wooden buildings were arranged in formation around a central courtyard. There was a table set up outside the very first building, with a line of young men that snaked down that path. Obviously hopeful recruits.

Before she left, she and the Mistress had already discussed her plan.

She was to reach the Army barracks by the afternoon. The Mistress and her had discussed her options of getting close to the Emperor. They'd finally decided that joining the Elites was the best plan. The Emperor trusted his private soldiers wholly, and Katara would have ample opportunities to gather information and send it back to Kyoshi. That was her other objective. To find out army movements and supply routes and send all this intelligence back to Kyoshi, by way of several messengers who would be already planted in the city.

Her last objective, and most important one, would be to kill Emperor Zuko.

_How would that solve anything? Killing him won't be defeating the entire Empire. I'm sure he has some other family member who will take over when he's dead._

As of now, the Emperor is unmarried and has no heir. He is the last surviving member of the ancient Fire royal line. You must kill him before he has children. If he has a child, whether illegitimate or not, that will turn into two targets for you to kill, further complicating the mission. Kill him, and the entire nation will be in an uproar as to who is next in line for the throne. It will completely crush their morale.

_Alright._

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Katara joined the end of the line. The boy in front of her turned and smiled. He looked like he was only a few years older than her.

"Hey. Decided to try your luck in the Army?"

_Don't speak unless you are spoken to. Don't attract attention_. "Yeah." She answered, noncommittally.

"What division are you going into?"

She was momentarily startled. "What?"

"What division? Like, just the regular Ground troops? Are you joining the Navy? Or are you signing up for Medical, like an Army doctor?"

Katara recollected her thoughts. "Oh. I'm trying for the Elites."

His mouth dropped open, and then he seemed to think that she was making a joke. "That's a good one!"

She raised one eyebrow. "Fine. Nothing I can do to make you believe me."

He seemed to draw back warily. "You were serious?"

"Yeah."

"Wow." He shook his head slowly. "Wow. You're looking to join up with the Elites? They're crazy, you know. All of them. It's the toughest division to get into. You gotta be something really special to get in."

Katara took this opportunity to find out more about how she would actually be getting into the Elites. "Like what? Do they give you some kind of intelligence test?"

He gaped at her again. "You mean, you've never heard of the gauntlet?"

"The gauntlet?"

Now he looked suspicious. "Are you from around here? Like, from Kotzut?"

This was where her planned lie came in. "Nope. I come from a village just south of Yeriv. My family farms there. Didn't want to spend the rest of my own life picking up cow manure, so I decided to try the city."

He gave her another easy-going grin. "Yeah? That would explain it. Well then I take it upon myself to educate you, miss, on the wonders of the real world. My name's Hiro, by the way." He held out one hand to her.

It took her a split-second to examine him in her mind. Hiro was only a bit taller than her, dark brown hair, the usual amber eyes of the Fire Nation, and tanned from the sun. His intentions seemed wholly honest. And she could ditch him anytime he began to do something suspicious. She took his hand. "I'm Katara."

He shook it before letting go. "What made you decide to join the Army?"

She made a relaxed shrug. "Something to do."

He laughed, slapping his thigh. "You decide to join the Elites for something to _do_? You decided to run the gauntlet for something to _do_? There's a bunch of other jobs in the city for a girl your age."

"You mean like a whorehouse?"

Hiro put out his hands placatingly. "That's not what I meant, Katara."

"Good. Because that's not what I'm here for."

"I mean just… alright. You're dead set on the Elites, I know." Hiro hooked his hands in his belt. "Wow."

"Wow _what_?" Katara hadn't decided yet if this boy annoyed her or amused her.

"Well… I was originally going to join the Navy. But the idea of living on a row boat for three straight months sailing over nothing but _water_ doesn't exactly appeal to me anymore." He gave her another long look. "I'm going to try for Elites too."

Katara almost slapped herself in anger. Great. She'd just made more competition for herself. Outwardly, she just shrugged again. "If you want to, I won't stop you."

Hiro laughed again, and Katara permitted herself a small smile. Another hour passed under the hot, scorching sun while the line moved slowly up towards the front of the barracks. More people joined the line behind Katara, and Hiro kept up a friendly chatter that was merely entertaining. When he asked about her background, it gave her a chance to practice her pretend life.

"My parents raised me on a farm, like I said. And my brother's going to inherit the whole thing when my dad passes away, so there's really nothing for me there."

"Yeah? I was born and raised in Kotzut. My family's been merchants forever. Spice trade." Hiro said easily.

A light tap on her shoulder made Katara spin around from her conversation with Hiro. It turned out to be a scared-looking boy who didn't look any older than fifteen. He looked a little surprised to find out she was a girl, but spoke up.

"Excuse me… would you mind telling me if… if this is the line for army recruitment?" His nervous eyes refused to meet hers.

Before Katara could reassure him it was, Hiro stepped up behind her.

"No, it's the line for the toilet." He said, with a perfectly straight face.

The boy behind Katara flushed red and was about to leave when Hiro laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "I was just joking, kid! Yeah, this is the line for recruitment."

The boy let out a huge sigh of relief.

"What's your name? You look a little young to be joining the Army." Hiro asked, peering over Katara's shoulder at the shorter boy.

"My – my name is Kaz, and I just turned eighteen. I'm going into Medical."

"Oh, a doctor, eh? We'll be seeing a lot of you, then, Kaz. Me and the Kat – " Hiro pointed at Katara. " – We're joining up with the Elites."

_The Kat?_ Katara thought silently to herself. _I've talked with him for only an hour and he's already given me a nickname?_ She wasn't sure how to take it, and said nothing. In less than a minute, Hiro had already engaged Kaz in conversation, and had the younger boy telling Hiro why he was here and why he was interested in becoming a doctor.

Katara already had him classified. Hiro was the one everybody loved, the life of the party, the popular leader. He had a charm about him that was irresistible, and you couldn't help but feel that you could trust him with your deepest, darkest secrets. She wouldn't make that mistake, she assured herself. Hiro was friendly and nice and had already given her a nickname, but she didn't truly know him yet.

Another half hour passed, with the three of them sticking together as the line moved forward slowly. They were eventually joined by another dark-haired youth named Oran, who was quiet and didn't speak up much. Hiro soon found out that Oran was interested in joining the Elites. Katara hadn't expected so much competition for the special force.

"It's because a whole patrol was wiped out a month ago." Hiro said, becoming serious. "There's only six patrols in the whole Elite, so they gotta replace them fast. They're going to have to train the newcomers too, and that will take time."

"Wiped out? How?" Katara asked. This could prove vital.

"By those damn Kyoshi rebs. I heard it was an ambush." Hiro said, scowling at the mere thought of rebels. "It was a huge loss. Five of the best, gone in one swoop."

Katara kept her mouth closed on the subject of Kyoshi rebels.

It was Hiro's turn to talk to the officer sitting at the desk in front of the barracks. "Wish me luck!"

He stepped up, and left Katara, Kaz, and Oran waiting for their turn.

Katara couldn't see or hear what was exchanged between the recruitment officer and Hiro. Whatever it was, it must have gone well, because Hiro was taken into the building and through a door. He turned back and winked at them before disappearing.

"Next." The officer called.

Katara stepped up, rehearsing her lines in her head. If she screwed up now, this whole mission would be ruined. She had to get in. She had to convince the officer that she wasn't suspicious.

"Name?" The officer asked, in a bored voice.

"Katara."

The officer glanced up at her again, as if he hadn't seen her right the first time. He seemed to take in the fact that she was a girl with a mere widening of the eyes and then looked down at his paper again.

"Age?"

"Eighteen." It was the minimum required age, and Katara wasn't even absolutely positive that she was seventeen. She could be younger or older.

"Birthplace?"

"Yeriv."

"Father's profession?"

"Farming." It was expected. Most people in the Yeriv area were either farmers or raiders who preyed on the farmers.

"Division joining?"

"The Elite Guard."

He gave her a second glance, as if to make sure she was for real. He didn't say a word, but waved her to the second officer standing behind him.

She was lead into the building and through the same door Hiro had been lead through. It was a simple antechamber, half-full with about a dozen people. She caught sight of Hiro sitting in one corner, and walked over to join him. Less than five minutes later, Oran joined them.

"Next up, the interview!" Hiro crowed almost joyfully. "We'll have to go to the next room where we get a more in-depth talk to decide whether or not we get to move on."

"An interview?" Katara asked.

"Yeah. Those who don't make it past that have to leave and can try joining another division." Hiro said confidently, leaning back in his chair.

No sooner than he'd said this, a loud crash of a door being slammed came from the door that lead into the interview room. They caught sight of an angry young man storming through the room and out the other door, probably to get back in line again in order to join a lower-standard division.

"He obviously didn't pass." Hiro said, smirking a bit.

"What – what kind of interview is it?" Katara asked, a bit perturbed now.

"No idea." Hiro said cheerfully.

They sat in silence, and then Hiro's name was called. He left Oran and Katara, giving them another wink before walking through the door to the interview room.

Katara's hands grew sweaty, and she couldn't help the nervousness that swept through her. Hiro did not come back out, which mean that he'd passed. Her name was called by another officer, and she rose to walk through the door.

She held her breath, but all that was inside was a wooden desk with a man sitting behind it.

"Sit down." He said, pointing to the chair in front of Katara. His voice was the voice of authority.

She sat obediently, and stared across the table at him. The first thing she noticed about him was the scar that covered half his face, and the smoldering yellow eyes that pinned her to her chair. Katara had no idea who this was – probably a higher officer in charge of newcomers who wanted to join the Elites.

"Why do you want to join the Elites?" He asked, in a curt voice that told her he wasn't interested in wasting time.

"Because – because I want to be a part of the best division." Katara said, trying to keep from stammering. "I don't want anything less."

He seemed to take her words at face value, then continued on with his interrogation.

"What makes you think you'll get in?"

"What makes you think I won't?" She said, before she could stop herself. Oh shit. Only the second question, and she'd probably already offended him. Damn. If she didn't get into the Elite guard, it was all over. She would have failed the Mistress and her brother and all the residents of Kyoshi.

His eyes widened slightly, and he didn't seem to be very offended. In fact, Katara felt that he began to take her more seriously, as if she had caught his interest. Again, he took her words at face value and answered them. "Number one. Because you are a woman and no woman has ever been admitted to the Elite Guard."

"Has a woman ever tried?" She countered again.

"… No." He was forced to admit. Inside, Katara did a little victory dance.

The man seemed oddly satisfied with what she had said so far. "Have you had any previous weapons training?"

Katara and the Mistress had discussed this as well. "A little bit that my brother taught me."

"Do you know how to use a sword?"

"Moderately well." She answered. It was the truth, at least compared to Suki and the other warriors on Kyoshi.

"Anything else you've had training in?"

"A bit of archery."

Standing up so abruptly that Katara leaned back warily in her chair, the man pointed to the door behind him. "You're done. Wait in there."

Katara grabbed her bag which she'd set on the floor next to her chair, and scurried through the door behind the scarred man. That hadn't gone so bad, really.

The next room was just as bare as the first. Katara had expected to see the rest of the Elite hopefuls to be crowding the room, including Hiro. But the only people inside were two men dressed all in black. Black shirts, black pants, black boots, black armor, black sword sheaths. They leaned against the wall, next to the second open doorway. They stopped their conversation as soon as Katara came in and shut the door behind her.

"Hey Ensei. Another newcomer what thinks they up to our level." The first black-hair man nudged his partner. Ensei had brown hair so light it bordered on gold.

"Fresh meat to torture." Ensei replied. They laughed together.

Katara didn't say anything, just sat down in the one available chair in the room. Obviously this was some sort of ritual that the Elites did to newcomers. Hazing on the new recruits. It was to be expected. New initiates back on Kyoshi went through this same sort of joking and ribbing as well. It was a tradition, for the experienced soldiers to pick on the new ones.

"It's a _girl_ this time!" The first dark-haired man exclaimed in shock, upon closer inspection.

Ensei's eyes narrowed and they both stepped closer to circle around Katara. "A rarity. Hm." He flicked a piece of her long ponytail with one finger.

She flinched away, glaring at him. He laughed, and stepped back, along with his partner.

"Interesting… very interesting, San." The golden-haired man laughed again. "I don't think I've ever seen this kind of meat before."

San gave Katara a leer. "I like variety."

She ignored their hazing. They had to get bored some time. They probably did this to every single recruit who came through. She wondered, inwardly, how Hiro had dealt with it. He had probably just joked back with the friendly, witty comments he always seemed to have on the tip of his tongue. Katara, on the other hand, was much too nervous to think of any sort of comeback.

"Are you part of the Elite Guard?" She asked, summoning up the courage to speak.

They gave each other a look.

"Well, I dunno. Are _you_ an Elite, Ensei?" San asked, putting on a mock stupid voice.

Ensei shoved him gently on the shoulder and San fell back, laughing.

"Girlie, you're looking at Lieutenant Ensei and Corporal San of the Elite Guard. I'm leader of First Patrol, and the Corporal here is part of Fourth."

"You may now bow down and kiss our boots, missy." said San.

She ignored them both. "What am I waiting for?"

"What is she _waiting_ for, she asks!" San said, in another mock indignant voice. "What is she _waiting_ for?"

"The _gauntlet_, missy, the _gauntlet_ is what you're looking forward to." Ensei raised one light eyebrow at her.

"The gauntlet?" Katara cursed herself for not having asked Hiro to explain it earlier when it had been mentioned.

"Yep. The gauntlet. Your last and final test before you're tossed out on your ass, limping back to join the sissy Navy or pathetic Ground troops." Ensei said smoothly.

"And what if I make it through?" She said boldly.

"She thinks she'll make it _through_!" San exclaimed again, in another mock voice.

"The _men_ who make it through, missy," Ensei continued, "Get to spend the rest of their extremely short lives with the likes of us." He spread his arms to encompass himself and Corporal San.

Katara kept her mouth shut. There was nothing more she could possibly say that would change their chauvinistic minds. She'd have to prove herself, really _prove_ herself this time.

Then they'd see what she was made of.

* * *

**A/N:** Second chapter. I'm churning these out pretty fast… like I did at the beginning of _THATP_. Inspiration has gripped me and will not let go. Kind of slow-moving at first… but don't worry, the exciting stuff is coming up.

**What happened to Hunter and Prey? – several reviewers  
**It's on hiatus. Writer's block. I'm going to do this until it all clears up. It's going to be finished… it just might take awhile.

**Are these people reincarnated? –several reviewers**  
Yup. Glad you were smart enough to pick that out. I'm going with the reincarnation idea. But even so, they grew up as different people, so the might be different from the way they are portrayed in the show, so they might turn OOC. Can't help it… that's what happens when you go with an AU fic.

**Eh, and sorry to seem a bit picky, but I thought I might point out an error or two --Falke-ness**  
No problem. Thanks for the tips… the fat instead of foot thing was pretty funny. XD Can't believe I didn't catch that!


	3. Gauntlet

**Chapter 3: Gauntlet**

Just when she thought she couldn't stand one more moment in that room with those officers, a third black-clad Elite swaggered in through the open door. He exchanged some words with Ensei and San while darting quick glances over at Katara. When he finally left, Ensei turned to her with a smile.

She didn't like it.

"Time for your walk," said Ensei.

"Time for you to meet the big dogs," said San.

She rose from her seat and walked until she was just inside the open doorway.

"What's the point of this gauntlet?" she asked.

San guffawed as Ensei looked at her with a friendly gaze that wasn't friendly at all.

"The point? Stay alive." He said.

Katara stared at him. "Just… stay alive?"

Ensei nudged San. "Any other tips, Corporal?"

With a straight face, San said, "Nope. Survival's pretty much it."

"Leave your bag here," Ensei said. "Don't worry, we will look through it."

They really did have big heads, these Elites. Personally, she just wanted out. She just wanted to leave this place and these smart-talking officers and go back home to Kyoshi and the warm sandy beaches.

But she stepped through that doorway, before they could physically push her out. Katara blinked in the harsh sunlight.

Two groups of Elites, maybe about a dozen total, lingered by the door. As soon as Ensei and San came out behind her, they began to group together and advance.

"Directions: You run, we chase." said Ensei easily. "Three… two…"

She lit off down the path and through the barracks complex before he'd finished counting. Katara understood now. It was going to be a gauntlet in the full sense of the word. She didn't stop to see if they were following.

Katara darted around buildings and through groups of other divisions, scattering them all.

" – Hey! Watch where you're – "

" – Fucking Elites! – "

Risking a glance behind her, she noticed that the group of Elites had grown. Other soldiers had peeled off from their various businesses and joined in the traditional chase.

Katara broke out of the Army complex and burst through the West Gate, back into the city, hoping to lose her pursuers in the large crowds. She forcefully pushed aside the people in her way, without bothering to apologize. She didn't care. She used elbows and legs and knees and teeth. There were only two ways to end this so-called gauntlet. Either she got caught, or she lost her pursuers.

She didn't want to know what would happen once she got caught.

Cries of outrage and anger from behind her told her that the Elites on her tail weren't any gentler with the crowd. By the sound of it, they were gaining. Katara tore off down a side alley and followed it until she entered another crowded main street. Shops and people and carts and produce flashed by. Her heart pounded in my chest. She continued to run through the thickest parts of the crowd, using the people as cover.

But it seemed as if word of the gauntlet had spread. As she turned the corner, she found that majority of the people there had already cleared off to the sides, in order to escape being trampled on by a group of bloodthirsty soldiers. Now the Elites had a perfect line of sight straight down the street to her.

"Shit! No! Don't leave!" she yelled out of frustration at the curious bystanders. They didn't do anything, just continued to watch. This probably happened every year, and they already knew what to expect.

Looking up, she caught sight of a slow moving cart stuck in the middle of the street. It was piled high with bright green cabbages, and apparently one of the wheels was broken.

Katara quickly darted behind the cart, peered up over at her pursuers, then ducked down again, grabbing a cabbage in each hand.

"Hey! No! You have to pay for those!" yelled the merchant.

She ignored him and popped up again, lobbing one, two, three cabbages at the running soldiers. Two hit and they stumbled. The rest charged on.

One plan having failed, she turned around, braced her back against the cart, and _heaved_ with all her strength, much to the dismay of the cabbage man.

"NOOOO!" He wailed as his produce tumbled rapidly off the cart and into the oncoming Guards.

Katara didn't stick around to find out what happened. She disappeared down a smaller side alley, dodging trash bins and other boxes left by the inhabitants of the buildings on either side. She could see the end of the alley where she would be able to dart into the market crowds again. She was almost there.

Then something slammed into her from the side and against the hard wall of one building. The breath whooshed out of her. Seeing stars, she struggled to get up, and saw two black-clad Elites standing before her. There was an open window above them.

_How did they get here before me?_

Her confusion must have showed on her face, because one snickered and said, "We know our own city better than you do, kid."

Taking a deep breath, she tensed her muscles, then leapt from the ground, eyes set on her destination and intent on escaping. A strong grip on her arms jerked her back so fast she got whiplash.

She struggled, landing one blow to the temple of the Elite on her right, and he stumbled back, cursing. The feeling of desperation in her climbed. She had to get out of here before the rest of the soldiers caught up to her.

Katara and the remaining guard eyed each other warily. He was standing so that he blocked her only way out of the alley. She tried kicking him with one foot, but he caught it, lightening-fast, and sunk another fist into her stomach. She wheezed, doubled over, and couldn't breathe.

A loud patter of footsteps on the dirt ground alerted her to the arrival of the rest of the Elites.

_Oh, shit_.

Sucking in one more breath, she leapt up and slammed her fist into the eye of the soldier who had punched her in the gut. He yelped and stumbled back, clutching his bruised eye.

"Cheap shot." Somebody muttered behind her, and before she knew it, they were all on her.

She couldn't even stay on her feet anymore, and she didn't know when she'd ended up on the ground. But she curled into a fetal position, trying to protect her vital organs as the kicks came from every side. Katara tried to remember what Suki's face looked like.

_I won't cry I won't scream I won't._ She tasted blood in her mouth from the mere act of keeping silent.

"Don't think just 'cause you're a female we gonna be easy on you."

"Everybody goes through this – you ain't nothing special."

The next foot that connected with her ribs she grabbed and hauled herself up on, punching and scratching and hitting anything she could come in contact with. Hands pulled and grabbed at her, trying to haul her off her victim. One hand touched her breast, and whether accidental or not, it enflamed her mind and she thought _this is it, _and faster than anything an eye could see, she whipped out the knife on her upper arm and swiped it in a wide circle.

Every single one of them snapped back, reflexes dodging the metal as it came towards their heads. They clearly hadn't expected her to have any type of weapons of her body. One soldier wasn't fast enough, and the point of her knife caught him just under the eye, making a perfect, clean cut.

"_Bitch_ – " he swore, clasping his hand to the dribbling blood.

"Did she get ya, Sakai?"

"Ooh, she _marked_ you, she did."

Katara panted, holding the knife in front of her, turning in a circle in the center of the crowd of Elites. They were warier now, and nobody was willing to risk a knife in the gut carelessly. With her free hand, she wiped the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth where she'd bit her own tongue in order to not cry out.

Stepping out forward behind the circle of Elites was the golden-haired Lieutenant. He was chewing casually on an unlit cigarette in his mouth. In one smooth move, he flicked it out of his mouth and onto the dirt where he ground it under his boot.

"No one thought to do a weapons check on the girl?" He drawled, addressing the entire group.

There was a bit of shifting and shuffling.

"You're all idiots." Ensei said, with a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

"Well… she's a girl… so a full-body pat down would have been…" another Elite stuttered.

"Inappropriate?" Ensei said, fixing on the man who'd spoken up. "Curious. I thought you enjoyed that sort of thing, Joal."

Joal flushed and the rest of the group chuckled. Even though he couldn't have been the officer with the highest position, the Elites seemed to look to him as their leader.

Out of the corner of her eye, Katara saw someone make a move at her back. Almost snarling in anger, she drew back her knife hand to slash at him, but was brought up short when another stranger's hand forced open her wrist. The knife clattered to the ground. Before she could dive for it, a black-booted foot came forward and kicked it carelessly away.

She looked up, and startled, met the gold eyes of the scar-faced man who had interviewed her earlier.

Curiously, he seemed to command a sort of respect from the Elites, because they all backed up to give him more room.

"What's going on here, Ensei?" He asked, in a smooth and authoritative voice.

"We were just finishing up the new recruit's traditional test," said Ensei. Oddly enough, the lieutenant didn't call him _sir_ like all the other soldiers did, nor did he salute. The scarred man didn't seem offended. In fact, the two men seemed at ease with each other, even though the lieutenant was obviously of lower class.

"Ah. The gauntlet, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, sir."

Katara remained in a half-crouched position the during this small conversation. She couldn't help it, but when that scarred man turned his bright gold eyes back on her she flinched involuntarily. If he noticed, he gave no sign of it. Instead, the man caught the sight of the blood on Sakai's face.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Sir, she had a knife and I wasn't fast enough." Sakai replied stiffly.

Nodding, the scarred man began to circle around the ring formed by the Elites. Katara unconsciously began to walk in the opposite direction, so they were circling each other like two fighters do before engaging.

He made the first move, a swing that clipped the side of her face when she dodged too late. She tried hitting him, but he was too fast and they returned to the circling.

Katara was getting more and more confused by the second. _What is this? Who is he? What are we doing?_

Everything happened in a blur as the scarred man attacked again. She ducked the first few, but then it was all a flurry of blows. He caught her ribs, she raked his chin, and then his armored shoulder slammed into her stomach. She gasped, trying to fall backwards, but he kept going forwards and slammed her against the wall.

She was caught against the wall, and instinct took over again. In another split second she had a knife in each hand, and with both, sliced at the man's neck. He let her go, darting back, so that the knives swiped empty air.

" – where is she getting those things – "

" – watch out, sir! She probably has more – "

Katara crouched, back against the wall, and her pounding heart seemed like it would burst at any second. What was this gauntlet? Was it fight until she was half-dead? She was certainly getting tired. The run had taken a lot out of her, and she could tell her reflexes were slowing down.

A movement out in her peripheral vision had her paranoid self swinging around again, but it was only Lt. Ensei taking out another cigarette. Too slow to realize it, a hard blow caught her at the juncture between her neck and head, and she fell forward, losing the grip on her weapons.

She fought the blackness threatening to claim her vision, and just hoped to all the powers above that they wouldn't start in on kicking her again. She was utterly defenseless on the ground, as that blow to her head had numbed every single movement she could make.

Two rough grips hauled her up by each arm, and she couldn't help the way her head hung, tired and defeated.

"Seems like enough for today, doesn't it?"

"Yah… we still got a couple more recruits to go through." Ensei said, flicking a piece of ash to the side. The smoke rose from his cigarette in a lazy, wandering stream.

"She put up a good fight, gotta give her that."

That seemed to be it, and she was dragged out from the shadows of the alley back into the main street. Eyes followed the group of soldiers as they forced her to walk back to the Army barracks. It almost seemed like some sort of victory march, the way the soldiers lined up in a loose crowd behind her.

Once they arrived at the complex, she was dropped off at what seemed to be the medical hospital.

"Hey! Doc! Something for you to work your magic on."

The hospital room was mostly filled with beds in orderly rows of four. Some were occupied, and Katara thought she could see Hiro at a bed in the far back. That was right, he would have gone through the gauntlet before her.

A gray-haired man bustled up and in a curt voice, said, "Put him on bed four, boys."

"A girl this time, Doctor," drawled Ensei.

The doctor looked closer at her and seemed to take it all in stride. "Oh. I couldn't tell, under all that dirt and blood," he said casually. "Why you go through this every year is beyond me, Lieutenant. You just waste my time and my beds."

"You know you love a visit from us, Doc."

The doctor just shook his head noncommittally and walked off to attend to something else. "I'll be right there."

The soldiers who'd brought her back deposited her roughly on bed four, and left without a backwards glance, led by the yellow-haired Ensei.

"Hey Katara. Doesn't look like you had too much luck either." Hiro, from the bed next to her, grinned through the large bloodstained bandage on his left cheek.

"Speak for yourself," she said curtly, and tried to get into a comfortable position on the bed with all her bruises and aches. "It seemed to me like a useless waste of energy. What was the point? To scare us?"

"Come on, Kat." Hiro laughed. "It's a tradition! These are scars to be proud of."

It was like Hiro to take a bout of violence as a joke. He just laughed it all off. Well, not everyone had his optimism.

Oran was led in not ten minutes later. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to have any cuts or scrapes that bled, just a few bruises. Silently, he sat on the bed next to Katara's.

"Hey man! How'd you do it?" asked Hiro curiously.

The dark-haired young man just shrugged. "Simple. Don't fight back and they get bored after awhile."

Katara wondered to herself why she hadn't thought of that at first. Her instinct was to fight back at anything that attacked her, but Oran seemed to have seen through the intent of the gauntlet and found the quickest way out, with the least amount of injuries.

Soon, the doctor came back. "Arms up," was his only instruction, and Katara obediently followed it as he checked her ribs for signs of broken bones or anything beyond the usual bruising. There was no amount of perverted interest while he checked her torso. He was all business, and strayed no further than he would have with a man.

"No broken ribs. I would suggest some relaxation and bed rest for the bruising to heal," the doctor said. "but fat chance you'll be getting any of that around here."

"Why not?" asked Hiro.

"Because we start training tomorrow." Oran said flatly.

"They don't waste time, do they, these Elites." Hiro said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "I like it!"

The doctor pronounced the same verdict on Oran, and shooed the three of them out of the hospital building, with "You're just taking up the space real patients will need. Get out!"

After a bit of wandering about, they soon found their barracks. It was a very large, very long, wooden building like every other building in the Army complex, and split into three sections. The one on the left was further split into multiple rooms, each room with five bunks inside. The central section of the building was the cafeteria, with wooden tables and benches in orderly rows. Along one wall was where the food would be set out during mealtimes. Since it was almost dinnertime, the cooks were just setting up the kitchen. The last section, the one on the right, was the weapons and armory room.

The three of them entered the sleeping quarters and found their room. It was obviously theirs because some smart-ass soldier had written on the door, "FRESH MEAT INSIDE. EAT QUICKLY TO PREVENT SPOILING."

"I guess we're in here before we pass training," muttered Oran, who pushed open the door.

Once inside, they found that their bags were already there. Katara found that, true to what the Lieutenant had said earlier, their bags had been searched. The searchers hadn't made a mystery of it – they deliberately didn't place the things back in their original places. This didn't overly bother Katara, for she hadn't brought anything personal in her bag. Nothing that would tie her to the rebels. It would have been a death sentence if a connection was found.

"Wonder who the other two newcomers are." Hiro mused.

Katara didn't say anything, just swung her bag onto one of the lower bunks. Oran did the same on the bed across from her. Hiro chose to leap onto the bunk above Katara.

No sooner had they gotten themselves organized, when the door opened again and they were greeted with the last two fellow bunkmates.

"What took you guys so long?" joked Hiro, jumping off the top bunk. It was like him to be the first to welcome the newcomers.

The first boy smiled back, friendly-like, at Hiro and jerked a thumb at his partner behind him. "Guhan got his arm broken during the gauntlet, so we had to spend a little extra time at medical."

Guhan was cradling his bandaged arm to his chest, a perpetual frown on his face. He didn't say a word as he dragged his bag across the floor to the farthest bunk in the back of the room. Then he threw himself on the bed and turned his back to the rest of the group.

"Not much of a talker, is he?" whispered Hiro.

The first boy just shook his head with a small smile. "I'm Juiko, from the Southern Islands."

"Hiro. Born and bred in the city."

They shook hands, and then Juiko's brown eyes caught sight of Katara over Hiro's shoulder. They widened for a second.

"I didn't know they allowed women to join the Elites," he said.

"Well now you know!" Hiro said cheerfully, clapping a hand on Katara's shoulder, pushing her forward. "This is Katara, our own little novelty here at the trainee barracks."

"Hey," she said, noncommittally. She wasn't here to make friends or have relationships. She was here to kill someone.

The loud horn calling for dinner blew, and the five of them, with Guhan slumping along at the rear, walked outside and joined the flow of men heading towards the cafeteria in their building.

Once inside they joined the food line, amidst the catcalls and rude comments as they, along with several other newly recruited groups, were recognized by the older soldiers.

Looking around, Katara counted the number of new recruits, and came up with a number much too large, if what Mistress had said about thirty being the maximum number was true.

"I thought they were only accepting enough for one new patrol," she remarked.

"Yeah. At the end of training, they'll pick the best through a series of tests, and the rest will be sent to different divisions," answered Juiko.

"How many of us will be accepted?" she asked. _What are the odds of my getting in?_

"I heard eight, but some say seven. Apparently last week, another patrol was attacked," said Juiko.

"Those idiot rebels should just give up," scowled Guhan, who was still clutching his broken arm. "They should know by now they're fighting a lost cause."

"There've been more attacks lately," said the usually-quiet Oran. "They're getting stronger."

"Or just more desperate," smirked Hiro.

With an air of feigned casualness, Katara said, "You seem to know an awful lot for a village boy from the Southern Islands, Juiko."

Juiko looked at her with a startled expression, as if he himself was surprised at his apparent wealth of knowledge. "Yeah? I just listen to a lot of gossip… lots of news around the city…" he finished lamely, drifting off at the end.

Katara left it at that.

They each picked up a tray and sat at an empty table in the corner, away from the rest of the soldiers.

While Hiro and Juiko engaged in a conversation about the merits of a crossbow as opposed to a regular bow, Katara chewed her food silently and pondered the day's happenings.

She'd decided by now that Hiro was a harmless entity. He was a joker, a crowd-pleaser, a friend to everyone. His intentions were wholly honest, and he came from a well-to-do family in the city. He'd joined the army because it was a tradition in his family for the eldest son to inherit the business while the younger ones tried their luck in the military. His father had recently passed away, and Hiro's older brother wanted him out of the way. Hiro had told Katara all this with a smile and "Well that's the way life is, isn't it?"

It certainly was.

Oran was a quiet, closed-mouthed guy. He didn't go out of his way to piss anybody off, and he'd come from a village just north of the city. Other than the sparse information he'd offered up, he was a mystery to Katara. There was no reason to suspect him of anything, but Katara wasn't ready to trust him either. She wasn't ready to trust anyone, even Hiro.

Guhan, the man with the broken arm, she knew nothing about. He had a perpetual scowl on his face, which Katara attributed mostly to his injury. He was probably embarrassed at being the only one in the group who had sustained a serious injury. He would have a hard time of it when they began training. From what she'd heard, the instructors weren't ones to go easy on you, even if you were disabled. You were either up to their standards or you weren't.

And at first, she'd been willing to write Juiko off in the same category as Hiro. But after that brief interlude in the dinner line… she wasn't so sure. That boy knew _way_ too much to be an innocent little villager from the Southern Islands. He had to get his information from somewhere, not just from gossips. News about dead Elite soldiers didn't just make its rounds through the gossips in the city. That sort of information was kept confidential for as long as possible.

After dinner, they tramped back to their barracks, amidst the shouts of other Elites.

" – this is your _last_ night of freedom, kids. After this, you'll be – "

" – enjoy it while it lasts! – "

" – tomorrow the torture begins – "

Katara was surprised to find Lt. Ensei outside the door to their bunkroom. She was even _more_ surprised that he was there because of her.

He flipped a cloth-covered package to her, which she almost dropped before reaching out at the last second to catch. Peeling back the rough cloth, she found it contained the three knives she'd pulled this morning during the gauntlet.

Lt. Ensei began to walk away, before calling back, "The Emp says he's sorry he didn't return them sooner."

"Wait – the _emp?_" Katara called after him.

Ensei turned around and gave her a look. "The _Emperor_, girlie. The guy who beat your sorry ass in the gauntlet this morning?"

Katara froze.

That man with the scar, who'd interviewed her and ended her gauntlet, was the Emperor _Zuko_?

He was her _target_? She'd met him twice today already, and she hadn't _known_ it?

The rest of her fellow bunkmates stared at her in wonder as Lt. Ensei left.

"The Emperor himself was at your gauntlet?" Hiro asked, voice hoarse.

Katara was asking the same question to herself silently.

"I think he interviews every one of us," Juiko said quietly. "But I didn't know he was at your gauntlet, Katara."

"I didn't either!" she protested. "I didn't know it was him!"

"And you used weapons against him," Hiro said, eyeing the knives in her hands. "Did you get him at all?"

She shook her head. _I didn't kill him_. "He was too fast."

Silent, they all trooped into their room, and got ready for bed. Katara changed in the bathroom, which had several private stalls for showering. These army barracks had indoor plumbing. What a luxury. Did all the divisions get this, or was it only the Elites?

_The Elites are special, Katara, because they don't fight in regular wars like the Navy or Army does._ Mistress had said. _They carry out special… missions that the Emperor would not trust to anyone else. They don't fight in the open like regular soldiers. They hit specific targets in teams, targets that the Emperor needs gone._

_If I'm commanded to kill, what should I do? What if it's a mission against our own people?_

_You'll do what you have to do without compromising your position._

That could mean anything. Katara would have to trust her own judgment on this one. But still, she dreaded the day when she would be sent on a mission that involved killing Kyoshi rebels. What would she do if she met a warrior face-to-face and had to kill them? Would she do it? What if she recognized one of them?

What if one of them was someone she loved?

* * *

**A/N: **For all of those who've been asking - yeah this is the semi-sequel to THATP. I mean semi-sequel as in you can read this fic by itself, without having read THATP. It can be a stand-alone, but it also ties up some threads left by THATP. So yeah... since I released this before I finished THATP, there are spoilers and such. 

I'm incredibly tired. No time for questions, I'll get them next chapter. Sorry.


	4. Training

**Chapter 4: Training**

Katara felt her eardrums were going to shatter when the shrillest whistle she'd ever heard in her life blew early the next morning.

"YOU GET ONE WAKE-UP CALL," bellowed the whistle-blower from outside. "IF YOU'RE NOT DRESSED AND DONE EATING IN FIVE MINUTES, YOU'RE GOING HOME TO MAMA."

"It's still dark," Hiro murmured, burrowing his face into his pillow.

Katara sat up in bed and pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt. Visibility was zero in the room, so there was no risk of her privacy being invaded. Besides, she was going to be living with these guys for awhile; she might as well get used to it.

Yawning and blinking, Katara and all her fellow bunkmates shuffled outside into the queer half-light that occurs right before dawn. They slipped into the stream of other bleary-eyed recruits, all making a path for the dining hall.

"Sun's not even up yet," muttered Guhan.

Nobody answered him. Everybody was just focusing on putting one foot before the other and making it to the dining hall without falling asleep again or tripping over a fellow soldier.

Once inside, they began to automatically shove food in their mouths, without even noticing what it was they were eating. Not that the food really mattered—within two minutes, three instructors in uniform were inside the dining hall, blowing those shrill whistles and yelling insults at recruits moving too slow for their tastes.

"—my grandmother could eat faster—"

"—food is not to be _enjoyed_, it's supposed to be eaten and then turned into energy to fight with—"

"—who do you think you are to have so much time on your hands? The Emperor?—"

The entire group was herded outside again, ushered by the instructors. Following directions, they all began to run around the entire complex. Past their own barracks, past the medical building, past the army barracks, past the navy barracks, around the Firebenders Division (the largest of them all), and by the training field and arena.

Katara had never seen so many buildings and so much land and so much manpower devoted to an entire military purpose. It was enormous probably already a third of the size of Kyoshi Island. Again, that old despair crept up her throat as she thought of the firepower of the Empire compared to the tiny Rebellion. How could they possibly win?

_Well that's why you're here, isn't it? To find a way to win this thing._

Her feet pounded the dirt as they rounded the last turn. She wasn't the fastest, but she definitely wasn't slowest either. She might have been able to pick up the pace a little, but she wouldn't let herself stand out. _Don't attract attention to yourself. Stay anonymous, stay unnoticed._ It was hard enough already, for she drew attention because of the mere fact that she was a woman, and women generally did not join the army, especially not the Elites. _I'll work around it somehow_.

The instructors stopped them, and several people leaned over, panting, their breaths steaming visibly. Katara sucked cold air into her lungs. The run certainly did help wake on up. Maybe not such a bad idea after all.

Pushing open the gate in the wall around the training field, the instructors led everyone inside.

"Where you're standing is the main practice area, the one used for swords and other conventional, hand-held weapons for close combat," The instructor with close-cropped black hair boomed. "Over to your left—" he demonstrated with his arm, and heads turned, "—is the archery field, walled off for obvious reasons."

"On your right is the formal arena," he continued. "that is where ceremonies, initiations, promotions, and funerals are held. It is also where you will receive your entrance exam."

"And when will that be?" somebody called out from the crowd.

"When you are ready," came the cryptic reply.

The black-haired man appraised the group. "I am Instructor Tsunan. My partners are Instructor Lui and Instructor Moaz. Do as we say, follow the rules, and nothing bad will happen. Understand?" It was an implied threat. _Don't fuck with us and we won't fuck with you_.

"What are the rules?" yelled another person Katara wasn't familiar with.

"There's only one: Do as we say," Instructor Tsunan repeated.

_Easy enough_, thought Katara. _Follow instructions and you'll be fine_._ No problem._

"We're going to start by running everybody through the weapons we have in the armory. Some of you have might have had training before, while some of you have never touched a weapon in your life. I won't mince words—those of you without training are screwed over unless you're fast learners."

A snigger ran through the group. Some looked nervous.

"I'm not here to baby-sit you guys, got it? It's not going to be fun and games. I'm not going to personally hold your hand and teach you your drills," a slight sneer on Instructor Tsunan's face as he said it. "It's going to be hard and fast and you better keep up, or you'll find yourself outside on your ass, looking for a new job."

The group was split into smaller groups of three by each of the teachers, and two stayed in the practice area while the third went to the archery field first.

Katara was on the practice field in a group with Hiro led by Instructor Lui.

"Practice swords are in the armory shed," the Instructor said in a ringing voice, pointing. "Each of you pick a sword and a partner, and spar. Or try to. I'll be around to see what level you're at and whether it's worth the army's time to keep you here."

The whole group trooped into the small, squat building where a variety of weapons hung on the walls and on shelves. The wooden practice swords were in a pile on the ground. Katara picked one up and handed another to Hiro, who was standing behind her.

"_Wooden_ swords?" sneered a young man on her other side. "They want us to use these cheap things?"

"Probably to keep you from hacking off your hand in the first round, Borr." A voice came from behind the sneering man. "Safety issue, you understand?"

Borr just sniffed and picked up a wooden sword as if it was going to contaminate him.

Hiro rolled his eyes at Katara and they left the armory before picking a spot on the field to start. Several pairs were already beginning to spar next to them, and Katara couldn't help but run her eyes over them. That one was too slow, that one had obviously had professional training, this one was helpless, and that man in the corner was using his sword as if it were a butcher's knife.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement as Hiro swung at her head, and she barely reached up with her sword in time to block it, the impact sending shivers down her arm. They began to fight, swinging and blocking and turning and stepping.

"You'll be my partner, right?" Hiro smiled as she blocked another swing he aimed at her ribs.

"A bit late for the question, don't you think?" Katara grunted when Hiro thwacked aside her sword that had been aiming for his neck. In truth, she'd let him. She was moving deliberately slower, in order to pretend as if she were more of an amateur. Every move she made she planned out in her head first, and then executed with a painful slowness, so that Hiro wouldn't suspect a thing.

This was why she'd given up so easily during the gauntlet. Wouldn't it have seemed overly suspicious to the soldiers if she'd fought back like an expert? She'd thrown a few fists around, kicked a few shins, and drew her knives only when her instincts took over. It was all a farce. Not _one_ bit of her Kyoshi training could be evident to these people. A farm girl from Yeriv, fighting like someone who'd trained her entire life? Definitely suspicious. They would have apprehended her and questioned her.

Personally, she'd thought that just by drawing the knives during the gauntlet, she'd given too much away. It was a miracle nobody had asked her yet where she'd learned that skill. She should have kept her weapons hidden and pretended to be all helpless and defeated. She should have let herself be beat up.

Anyways, it'd all worked out fine so far. Katara just had to pretend to be much worse than she actually was.

She danced back from another swing before charging at Hiro again, whacking at his face. He parried, and her sword stopped inches away from his nose before he forced her back.  
"You're pretty good," Hiro panted. They were both sweating now.

"My brother was a good teacher," was all she said.

"Practiced a lot?"

"Whenever I had time. You?"

"Father hired a sword instructor for my brother and I when we were younger." Hiro shrugged.

A personal sword instructor? He must have been more rich than Katara had thought. Maybe the spice trade was doing particularly well.

Soon enough, Katara could feel the calculating eyes from Instructor Lui as he walked up to watch her and Hiro spar. She attacked with a bit more energy, and she knew Hiro knew that the Instructor was watching. They both tried harder, both tried to disarm or injure the other first.

Instructor Lui held up a hand, and they both stepped back, wiping sweat off their foreheads.

"Names?" he demanded.

"Katara," she said first.

"Hiro."

"Where did you two learn sword fighting? Especially you, girl." Instructor Lui asked them.

_I thought I told you my name for a reason_. Katara thought silently. Out loud, she said, "My brother taught me in his spare time. Said I needed to learn how to protect myself."

"What else do you know?"

"Um, some archery, a bit of knives and spears," she shifted uncomfortably under Instructor Lui's direct gaze. Thankfully, the teacher soon turned attention to Hiro.

"And you, boy?"

Hiro just cracked another easy-going grin. "My father had my brother and I taught from an early age."

"You're from the city, right? Who was your tutor?"

Hiro seemed surprised that Lui was so interested. "Uh… I think it was a man named Vusut."

Instructor Lui looked at him for a long moment. "Instructor Vusut is my father."

Clearly Hiro hadn't been expecting this. "Oh! I didn't know that."

"Yes, well, I recognized your style," As if dismissing the connection between them, Instructor Lui turned from Hiro back to Katara. "However, you, I don't know. I don't think I've ever seen the technique you use. What is it?"

Katara gulped nervously. _The ancient Kyoshi warrior style, that's what it is_. "Um, I'm not sure myself. My brother just taught me how to hold the sword and use it and I guess protect myself with it. Didn't know there was any style of any sort."

Instructor Lui gave her a look as if to say _what do those peasant farmers know anyways?_ "You two can move onto the archery field, along with Borr and Oran."

He left, and Katara and Hiro stood and stared at his back.

"That was strange." Hiro mused out loud. "Didn't know I knew the bloke's father."

Katara didn't say anything, just started to walk towards the archery field as Borr and Oran joined them.

Borr was complaining. "Those wooden _things_ handled like clubs. I honestly don't know what these Elites think they're doing, treating us like children. If you're not up to a real metal sword's level, you shouldn't even be here at all!"

Hiro laughed, and Katara and Oran didn't say anything. Borr was obviously the whiner, the one who could find wrong in every possible situation he was presented with. Katara found herself to actually look forward to fighting him in training someday. Was he as good as he made himself out to be? She hadn't seen him fight before, but from the way he spoke and the way he carried himself, he was obviously some rich merchant or noble's son. Probably in a similar situation as Hiro, just a bigger asshole about it.

Walking onto the field, Katara could see it was set up much the same way a regular archery field was. Round targets with red bulls-eyes at one end of the long field, and the archers stood on the other end. The distance was no bigger than what she'd trained with before.

Leading the group over to the archer's end of the field, she picked up one bow, testing it, unstringing it, and then restringing it to her liking. Definitely not as good quality as the ones back in Kyoshi. These were only practice weapons, anyhow. The wood was more brittle than she'd liked, but she wasn't going to say anything about it.

Oran, Hiro, and Borr took up places next to her and they began their shots.

Pulling back her first arrow, Katara sighted down the length of the shaft and released. The arrow _thwanged_ into the target, off to the right side of the bull's-eye. Perfect. Just where she'd wanted it.

A few more arrows, placed off-center and one just brushing the red eye made her farce even better. She also purposely shot one off too far to the side, and it hit the stone wall behind her target.

She hadn't gotten one single bull's-eye. And it was just the way she'd wanted it.

Looking over to the side, she checked on her fellow recruits' progress.

Hiro was much along the same level she was, but he'd landed two arrows in the center. Oran had three actually on the target; his other arrows littered the ground before the wall. Borr, the git, had five in the bull's-eye and one off on the side. He also had a supreme smirk on his face.

Katara silently gritted her teeth and ignored Borr's expression. All in good time.

She knew she could have landed all six arrows in the center. She knew her own abilities, and that was enough. Nobody else really needed to know. She just had to be better than average, good enough to get in without appearing suspicious.

Borr gave her what he probably thought was a reassuring smile, and placed one hand on her shoulder, which she couldn't help tensing under. "It's not your fault, Katara. Females generally just have weaker muscles than men. It's a fact of life. I'm sure you'll improve, even if you don't make Elites."

She narrowly avoided ripping his head off.

Instead, she contented herself with swiping his hand off her shoulder and moving to stand next to Hiro, deliberately turning her back on Borr. Katara focused on toning down her temper. She couldn't trust her tongue at this moment, and so she chose not to say a thing. Who knew what she could reveal in a moment of anger? A million scathing comments filled her mind but she bit down on all of them. Just take it, and he'll get what's coming to him some day, that rich snobby bastardly little fucker.

She took a deep breath before exhaling loudly.

Hiro gave her a look and rolled his eyes, showing his derision for Borr's comment. "Just ignore the idiot," he whispered to her.

The rest of the day passed in relative peace. They threw spears at a straw target (Katara purposely missed all but two), practiced knife handling, which included sheathing, drawing, throwing, and other types of manual fighting. This she allowed herself to show a little more talent in. Everybody else had already heard the rumor of her gauntlet, and she had to uphold the evidence. But not too good. Not too good to make her really stand out.

"Where did you learn the knives?" Instructor Lui asked her during a short break.  
"Practiced with my brother. It got boring around the farm sometimes. We'd set up targets and just keep throwing until we got it." She replied in a monotonous tone, knowing that others were listening and watching. Nothing special here. Move along, people, move along.

Near the end of the afternoon, Katara's attention was caught by the sight of another group of soldiers moving onto the empty half of the practice field. They were dressed in traditional red uniforms, but she had no idea who they were.

She tugged on Hiro's sleeve. "Who are those guys?"

He turned before looking at her. "The Fire benders, of course. I guess they're here for their training too." Hiro just shrugged and went back to trying out the battle axe, the one weapon that most of the people here, including Katara, had never tried.

However, Katara's attention was completely held by the Fire benders, who began to train, letting off great spouts of searing flame into the air and moving in unison. She watched, amazed at the power, and really, a little scared. She couldn't help but instinctively move back, further away from them, even though they were on the other side of the field. She could just imagine that burning heat by her face, searing her skin and eating her flesh.

Katara shuddered at the horrible images. Because that was what would happen to her, if her true identity was found out. Death by fire.

She turned to Hiro again, mouth dry. "Hiro… do you know how to Fire bend?"

He gave her a surprised look. "Well, no. Nobody here does, I think. The Elites aren't for Fire benders. We're for specialized missions. The Fire benders are just brute force, used for majority of the army."

"So you can't just, just learn it?"

Hiro shook his head again, giving her another strange look. "Nope. You gotta be born with it, Katara. I'm not sure how the talent travels through bloodlines. I guess if both your parents are Fire benders, you're sure to be one. But not me, and I guess not you. Don't you know anything?"

Katara mentally slapped herself. She was asking questions any self-respecting Fire Empire citizen would know. "Uh, uh I guess not. Neither of my parents were benders. Maybe a few generations before. I think my great-aunt was one, but she was kind of a surprise for the rest of the family," she lied.

Hiro just shrugged. "Yeah, same. A few distant relatives are benders, but not my immediate family. I think it's pretty much fifty-fifty in the Empire right now. Half have it, half don't. It's not that big a deal."

Good. Then Katara could continue pretending to be a citizen of the Fire Empire, and no one could suspect her for not being a Fire bender.

By dinner, they were all exhausted. Katara rotated sore muscles, thinking that it'd been awhile since she'd exercised. Those two weeks on the ships from Kyoshi to Menthat to Kotzut had made her lazy. Still, she was in better shape than some of the people here. Especially Guhan, who had had to deal with his broken arm the whole day. She looked around, and noticed there were less people here than before. She asked the question out loud to her tablemates.

"The really hopeless ones got sent home," Juiko said, mouth full of food.

Hiro snorted. "Did you see that one kid who was trying to shoot an arrow backwards?"

Katara was amused. "Doesn't he know not to hold the pointy end?"

"Apparently not. He got sent to medical, he cut his hand so badly," Oran put in.

Borr sniffed haughtily. He did that so often, Katara wondered if he had an allergy problem at times. "They don't deserve to be here. Weak fighters will just corrupt the Elites."

Katara chewed on her food with a little more energy than needed. She could detect the faint air of exasperation and annoyance coming from other members at the dinner table. However, no one said anything aloud. Nobody wanted trouble this early in training. Better to just let Borr spew his shit about being oh-so-holy and righteous, than get into a conflict about it.

As for Katara, she knew getting into a fight would attract undue attention to herself. She couldn't be known as the girl with a temper. She couldn't have rumors and people whispering about her. She needed to stay anonymous and quiet and unobtrusive. Borr could go screw himself; she wasn't going to waste anymore time on him.

"Any idea what we're doing tomorrow?" Juiko asked, spearing himself some more fish with a fork.

"Probably more of the same thing," answered Hiro. "but they'll split us up into groups according to the level they saw us fight at today."

After dinner, Katara took a shower in one of the private stalls. She luxuriated in the warm water that came through the pipes at a simple twist of a knob. She played with the water a bit, looping it around her hands and through her fingers, thinking about the technology and planning needed to make this instant water happen. The Fire Empire was a very advanced civilization, certainly, at least compared to the conditions back home on Kyoshi Island. Gigantic cities and opulent architecture and indoor plumbing. And, and _toilets_! Those things were an absolute marvel! An amazing invention!

Katara would trade it all in a second to be home joking with Sokka and training with Suki.

An almost choking wave of homesickness washed through her.

And she and Sokka hadn't even parted on the best of terms.

_I'll see him again_, she told herself, _we'll make up and he'll tell jokes and I'll laugh and wish I'd been at his wedding._

Katara wondered if Suki was pregnant yet. She wondered if she was an aunt already. It was important for couples to have children on the Island. Babies were treasured and for a good reason. It was a harsh way of saying it, but if the Kyoshi people did not reproduce fast enough, they would die out. There were just too little of them, and too many warriors dying each year. As well as the fact that since the Island community was quite small, inbreeding in the gene pool was bound to happen sometime. If it ever got bad enough, disaster would happen, and they would die out. That was why Katara and her brother had been such a welcome presence when had been discovered on the beach. New blood was always good.

_Sokka's probably already got that part covered_, Katara thought a bit darkly. _It'll be a miracle if I get out of this alive and still manage to have children._

That night, Katara had a harder time falling asleep, even though the day had been an exhausting one. She didn't join in the conversation with her bunkmates, just turned to face the wall and tried not to think about home.

* * *

The next morning, they repeated the same routine over again. Wake up, breakfast, and run. 

Katara found she actually enjoyed the lap around the army complex. The rhythm of her feet pounding and her heart thumping rang in her ears and she didn't have to think about anything, not Kyoshi, not Sokka, not assassins, not Emperors, and not herself.

That day she found out she'd been shifted to into the upper level along with Hiro, Borr, Juiko, and Oran. Guhan was left behind in the less advanced group.

"It's because of my arm," Guhan snarled when he found out. "they should know, they're the ones who broke it!"

Instructor Tsunan told him to stop whining or he'd do Guhan a personal favor by breaking the other arm.

Guhan obediently joined his line.

Borr just sniffed when he saw Katara in his group. She tried not to react, but instead, smiled innocently and said, "Would you like to be my sparring partner today?"

Borr agreed, but looked reluctant, as if he was loathe to waste his time on her. Hiro and Juiko paired off, and Oran went to fight another boy from a different bunk.

Katara didn't give him time to get ready. Like Hiro's surprise attack yesterday, she leapt at Borr, swinging toward his ribs, which he blocked quickly, if not a bit late. The surprise on his face quickly turned to determination and he fought back with ferocity. Katara swung and stabbed and slashed and blocked with just as much energy, the anger at Borr's imbecilic comments from yesterday rising in her and making her forget certain, more important things.

They circled each other for awhile, trying to find weaknesses and openings and defects. He swung, she parried. She stabbed, he blocked.

But soon she was pressing him back, back, back towards the stone wall erected between the practice field and the archery field. A strange expression stole over Borr's face—disbelief? Maybe even fear?—as he felt himself retreating from her attack. He knew he was taking far too many steps backwards for him to still be on the offensive. He was defending now, defending his body and his pride.

Sweat ran down Katara's forehead and her eyes caught on Borr as he lunged much too far to the left, leaving his right side unprotected. She was about to dash in for the kill when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Hiro and Juiko had stopped fighting, and Instructor Lui was standing stock-still next to them, eyes cold and calculating. A chill ran down her spine.

_How could I be so stupid?_

At the last second, she pulled back on her swing enough so that the tip of her wooden sword barely nicked the side of Borr's ribs. _How could I forget?_ It threw off her balance, this last-minute change in direction, and Borr, being a fool but not an untrained one, noticed. _How could I let my anger take over?_ She tried to regain her balance, but only succeeded in leaving more of her body exposed as her arms tried to compensate, and Borr leapt in on her as she fell backwards onto the hard dirt, his sword point stopping a centimeter before nicking her undefended throat.

The expression on his face was almost savage in its triumph. He knew he'd been losing the fight. He knew he'd almost been defeated by a mere girl. He'd grown desperate in the last few minutes, knowing that his fall was coming. The fact that he now had her on the ground in a complete turn of events, at his mercy, made his unbelievable victory all the sweeter.

She stayed in her position on the ground, letting her expression be one of utter humiliation. She wouldn't scurry away from Borr's sword like a beaten dog. Everyone who had been watching thought she was upset because she had lost. If they could have read her thoughts, she would have been killed on the spot.

_How could I forget my mission? How could I have blown my cover so quickly? How could I lose control to my temper? The other recruits might think I was lucky I was beating Borr at first, but the Instructor won't be so easy to fool. He'll know. He'll know it wasn't luck, he'll know it was training, training that a farm girl from Yeriv could never have received, not even from her older brother. He'll know and he'll tell Instructor Tsunan, who'll tell Lt. Ensei, who'll tell the Emperor, who'll kill me. I'm dead. Dead, dead, dead._

Hopefully the fact that she'd just lost the fight to Borr would confuse the Instructor. Hopefully he wouldn't be able to tell that she'd purposefully lost, that she'd purposefully pulled back when she'd almost had Borr writhing on the ground beneath her own sword.

"I win," sneered Borr, touching his sword to the bottom of her chin.

She jerked away, glaring at him before picking herself up off the ground and pretending to busy herself with brushing off the dirt. She could hardly stand the gloat in his eyes. She knew she'd lost on purpose, but Borr thought he'd won because he was the better fighter.

_So what?_ Let the idiot think that. Let the idiot think he was so much mightier than her. He could think he was a god and she couldn't care less.

Hiro and Juiko came up behind her while several other men congratulated Borr on his win. Apparently everyone had stopped to watch them fight.

"I really thought you had him there, Katara," Juiko said quietly.

"Yeah," said Hiro. "You put up a good fight."

She yanked her sleeve down angrily and didn't look at them. "He'll never let me live it down," she said tightly.

"He's an ass," Juiko tried to booster her confidence. "Come one day he'll be sorry he ever got on your bad side."

Katara nodded, and tried not to let the sounds of Borr's triumph get in her head.

Too soon, he came over, followed by his happy little entourage, to accept her congratulations. It was customary for the fighters to shake hands, and the loser to honor the winner.

Borr's smile sickened her, and as she shook his hand, she pretended it was his throat she was gripping. "You did good," she said, barely choking the words from her mouth.

"So did you." His sneer said otherwise.

_I shouldn't let this bother me,_ Katara hissed silently to herself. _I know I could have beaten him. I know I could've beaten him until he cried for his mother. What does it matter that he doesn't know that? Don't let pride get in your way, Katara._

She felt a tap on her shoulder, and with a sinking heart, turned to see the stony face of Instructor Lui. What she saw next made her seriously contemplate the idea of suicide.

Instructor Lui was standing behind her with not only Lt. Ensei, but the Emperor Zuko as well.

_This is the part where I am discovered_.

They would question her and find out the truth. She could act and she could lie with a certain amount of success, but she was unsure how her acting abilities would play out in the face of so many enemies.

_Don't think of them as enemies. You must become Katara, the farm girl from Yeriv, and forget about Katara, the assassin spy from Kyoshi. This is how you will survive._

"Really thought you had him there for awhile, girlie," The lieutenant drawled, his signature cigarette sending a faint trail of smoke from one corner of his mouth. "What happened?" The blonde man's posture was casual, his face so relaxed it might have been slack. But his eyes. His eyes were alive and calculating and digging into her façade. _Don't underestimate him, Katara_.

"I—I tripped," she said, eyes cast downward as if she were truly ashamed. Inside, she was shaking with fear. "I lost my balance and he got me." She refused to even think about the Emperor. He was right there, standing next to Instructor Lui, so close she could have reached out with a knife and _impaled_ him.

"Overconfidence," Instructor Lui said smoothly. "The mistake every amateur swordsman makes." No one bothered to correct the gender-specific term he'd used. Katara knew everyone had noticed, but if they weren't going to make a big deal of her sex, she sure as hell wasn't either

She nodded, seizing on this excuse. "I thought I was going to win," she said through gritted teeth, sounding like the perfect sore loser. "So I swung harder, thinking I was going to finally get him but I tripped and lost my balance and fell." She scuffed at the dirt with one foot. "It won't happen again." _Believe me, oh please believe me._

The Instructor nodded slowly. Ensei held the cigarette casually in one hand and exhaled, "At least you learned somethin'."

The smoke didn't seem to bother anybody else, not the Instructor nor the Emperor. But it slipped into Katara's lungs like a poisonous lover and she sweat with the exertion not to cough or choke. If she was to play the part of a real Fire citizen, breathing smoke would be like breathing regular oxygen. For the Fire people, they were around the byproducts of fire so often that it had ceased to bother them or cause health hazards. Increased exposure to dirty air and smoke caused lung sickness and death in peoples of other nations, but not for true descendents of the Fire Empire. Lt. Ensei could smoke twenty cigarettes a day until he turned a hundred, and nothing would ever come of it.

_Breathe it in, Katara. Breathe it in like the Fire bender you aren't_.

Katara could feel the Emperor's eyes assessing her, testing her. She looked straight ahead like a disciplined soldier, refusing to meet her superior's eyes.

_Look your fill, you power-hungry bastard. Look at your enemy. Look at the deadly snake who's slipped into your paradise, unknown to your subjects. Look at your future murderer._

All he said was, "The exam's in a month's time, isn't it, Ensei?"

The lieutenant tapped his cigarette, the dead ashes drifting to the ground. "No. It usually is, but this time we gotta hurry it up. Too many empty spaces we gotta fill, sir." His voice sounded callous and uncaring, like it didn't matter to him that so many of his fellow soldiers had died. But his eyes said otherwise.

The Emperor merely nodded. No _good job_ or _nice, promising group you have here_ or _you're all hopeless idiots go home now_.

Then he and the Lt. Ensei left as if they'd never been there.

Giving her one last cursory look, Instructor Lui left behind them.

Exhaling in a loud _whoosh_ of breath, Katara turned back to Juiko and Hiro, who had most likely watched the entire exchange.

"Not much for words, either of them, eh?" Hiro said, squinting his eyes to follow the progress of the Emperor, Lieutenant, and Instructor as they left.

"Guess not," muttered Katara.

Hiro remarked, "They seem awfully casual with each other, Lt. Ensei and the Emperor."

"They've been childhood friends since they were both born. Ensei's the son of some nobleman with a province in the west. He was raised here in the capital and decided to join the Elites to serve the Emperor when they both grew up." Juiko replied, eyes absent.

"Talk about true friendship," Hiro said, impressed.

Katara was impressed, but not with Lt. Ensei's apparent loyalty. "Amazing how you know everything about everyone here, Juiko," she said, off-handedly, as if she were making an insignificant observation.

The young, dark-eyed man seemed to wake suddenly from a reverie. "Yeah? Well—hear things, lots of things and I've got a pretty good memory. Gossips—they let anything slip, you know."

"You do know a lot, Juiko," Hiro said, smiling and oblivious as always.

"That's why I'm smarter than you," Juiko said, seizing the chance to make a joke of it. Katara permitted herself a small smile, pretending to be in on the humor.

Hiro put on a wide, offended look and pushed at Juiko's shoulder, knocking him into Katara, and said, "You dare put yourself above a distinguished, educated gentleman such as myself?" Juiko laughed, shaking his head, and Hiro snapped his fingers as if for a servant. "Katara! Beat this disrespectful, lowly peasant's sorry ass for me, will you?"

Katara grinned and moved into a ready position. "Why not? I'll need the practice if I'm to defeat Borr the Idiot next time I fight him."

* * *

DID YOU KNOW THAT THE MAN WHO DOES ADMIRAL ZHAO'S VOICE IN THE AVATAR SHOW IS JASON ISAACS, THE SAME MAN WHO PLAYS LUCIUS MALFOY IN THE HARRY POTTER MOVIES? 

I thought that was so cool. Found out from my little brother's Nickelodeon magazine for this month. Rejoice in your newfound knowledge, my wonderful readers.

I know the lack of Zuko/Katara interaction when we're already at Chapter 4 really frustrates some people, but stay with me here. Things will REALLY start picking up soon, especially after the exam. These earlier chapters are to set down ideas and plotlines and meet new characters. While on the subject of new characters, how are you guys liking the new OCs? Which one do you like best? Which one do you hate the most?

And also, if you are going to scream at me to update Hunter and Prey, or ask me why it's taking so long for updates, do not use this story's reviews for that. Use the Hunter and Prey reviews for Hunter and Prey stuff. I'm not going to fly into a destructive fit if somebody goes "UPDATE THATP" again when I read Love They Enemy's reviews, but I'd really appreciate it. Thanks.

As for why long updates it's because I like vacation and traveling and if I do have time to write, it's on four-hour shaky car rides with a #2 pencil and notebook resting on my knees.

It's all in my head already—I just have to get it down in my computer.

Remember, vote on my OC question from above. I love feedback.


	5. Twisted Revelation

**Chapter 5: Twisted Revelation  
**

After the preliminary drills and practice, the recruits began to use moving targets. This was after majority of them had proved that they could hit the immobile red bull's-eye with a success rate of five out of six shots. The mobile targets were set up on some sort of wooden contraption that allowed them to turn and rise and fall, depending on the preset pattern.

These targets were painted green with flat death-white faces. The eyes were empty holes drilled into the plywood, staring blankly at her.

Katara couldn't take her eyes off them.

Hiro grinned as he picked up a bow from the rack, and several arrows. "Pretty life-like, eh?"

Juiko smiled back in agreement, and Katara just silently picked up her own equipment.

_They're just pieces of wood, Katara. Don't shit yourself over it._

As they began to shoot, Katara pretended to fumble with her bow, saying out loud that this one was defective, and she needed to get a better one. When she finally got back into position, she looked over at Oran, who was standing next to her. He had already made six shots, feathered arrows sticking out of his chosen target. Katara was a bit surprised—archery wasn't generally one of Oran's greater strengths.

Hiro noticed as well. "Good job there, Oran," he said approvingly.

Oran said nothing, but unleashed a seventh arrow with more force than necessary; it soared through the air before sinking into the chest of a green-painted figure. The expression on Oran's face was one of strangely controlled anger. It fascinated Katara, at the same time scaring her. Oran wasn't a man with temper. He was generally quiet and accepting and he didn't seem to have a drop of malice in him.

He relaxed his bowstring, and saw all of his fellow archers looking at him. Hiro was curious, Juiko hesitant, Katara quiet, and Borr indifferent.

Oran's voice was clipped. "My father and sister were killed in a rebel raid a year ago."

Turning away from them, he picked up his bow and resumed his practice.

Katara felt sick to her stomach.

"Well, then, you've got more right to be here than any of the rest of us," Hiro said quietly, his usual smile replaced by a somber look.

For awhile they all thought Oran wasn't going to respond. Then he gave a short, accepting nod, without taking his eyes of his target.

Everyone took it as a sign to get back to their own business. Hiro picked up his bow, and Juiko absent-mindedly rearranged a few feathers on one of his arrows.

Katara took a deep breath and got into position.

_Oran's father and sister…_ Katara wasn't stupid. She knew what Kyoshi warriors did. She knew killing people, including neutral civilians, was a part of war. Casualties on both sides always included the innocents. It was a fact of life. _It's not my fault!_ But she couldn't shake the image of the deep, indescribable pain in Oran's eyes as he spoke.

With a steady hand, she picked up her bow, notched an arrow, and shot one, two, three into the targets circling in front of her eyes.

Stomach, head, and heart.

Her own brother's eyes stared at her from the holes in the face of the target she'd shot.

She knew it would be awhile until she could look Oran full in the face again.

* * *

"I think I'm going to pee my pants," Katara hissed, jumping from foot to foot. 

Juiko grinned. "Pick a tree, any tree." He motioned outside with one arm.

She glared at him. The feeling of anticipation, fear, and nervousness rolled like an oily mass inside her stomach. Sitting inside the small anteroom connected to the side of the arena were all the recruits that had been training here for the past three weeks. Everyone had a different expression on their faces, most of them along the lines of what Katara was feeling. Oran sat so still in his seat he could have been a statue. Hiro made weak jokes which everyone laughed at. Not because they were funny, but because the tension was so overbearing that laughter was the best outlet they could find. Juiko seemed uncannily calm, while Borr just sat by himself, that haughty look on his face.

"That," Hiro smiled tremulously, "would be a physical impossibility for her, Juiko. A bush is more along the lines of what she needs."

Katara rolled her eyes as several people snickered. She wasn't offended, for she knew Hiro meant no harm by his little quips. He was a good guy. They were all nervous.

"I can do everything that you can do, Hiro," she mock snapped. "and most of it, better."

He rolled his eyes, but Katara didn't miss the slight trembling of one leg. The room was quickly becoming clammy with the heat of all the jittery bodies inside. She could barely make out the sounds coming from outside. Were people getting settled into the seats inside the arena? How many would be here? Would there be an audience? She didn't know if she could take any sort of exam in front of an audience. What would the test be like? Everyone had wondered about it, spreading false rumors and hoping to trick the answer out of one of the older Elite, but to no avail.

The door creaked open at the opposite end of the room from where Katara was sitting. Lt. Ensei stepped inside, and gave them a wide, sweeping glance.

"How are all my pansies feeling?" he drawled, slouching against the doorframe, pose entirely relaxed. "Anyone pissed their pants yet?"

Nobody answered. Most of them just stared at him with blank looks. The rest had their heads resting on their knees or against the wall.

"Don't look very promising," muttered Ensei. Then he seemed to brighten up. "So, do any of you know what you'll be dealing with today?"

Some shook their heads.

"Well, it's gonna go like this. We call you out one by one, no specific order or anything, and you go into the arena and you take your exam. Then you get told if you're in or if you're too much of an ass-wipe to join, and then you go out the door on the other side. You don't come back here." Ensei gave them all another look. "Get it? It's not hard to understand. Nothin' fancy."

Everybody nodded. _We've all become dumb mutes_, thought Katara.

"Alright," he continued. "First up: Hiro."

Hiro stood up shakily, although he tried to look brave. Katara gave him a smile, and the others said some words of encouragement. Juiko patted him on the arm.

"Come on, kid, I don't got all day." Ensei left with Hiro stumbling after him, into the bright sunlight of the arena. Then the door closed, and the rest of them were shut in the muffled, dusty darkness again.

Katara's mind raced. Would it be a regular abilities test? How many arrows you can shoot accurately, how many spears you can throw into the target, how many knives you can sink into the post? Was it possibly a written test? What the hell _was_ it?

It seemed like forever, but after what was only ten minutes, all the occupants of the room heard the sound of polite applause from outside. So there _was_ a crowd.

"You think he passed?" Oran muttered to Katara, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were white.

Katara nodded frantically. "Of course he did. Hiro's great at…" Great at what? What was he being tested on? "Great at fighting, or whatever it is he was doing…" She trailed off, knowing Oran was no more reassured than he had been before he'd asked her.

"You're not going to find out until you take the test, so you might as well save the energy." Borr said from his corner. "What does it matter to you if Hiro makes it or not?"

Oran glared stonily at Borr, and Katara opened her mouth to say something, anything to denounce Borr for his callousness. _I care because Hiro's my friend!_

But she stopped when she realized what she was doing. _I can't be friends with the enemy. Hiro is the enemy. I am not friends with him. I don't care whether he lives or dies. It makes no difference to me or my mission here._

So she closed her mouth and said nothing, mixed feelings inside her. Juiko was silent as well.

One by one, other recruits were called outside into the arena. Katara grew tenser and tenser with the departure of each one. Borr left, sixth or seventh to be called. Oran grew so still he seemed to stop breathing. Katara stood up and began pacing the room. Juiko stared blankly at the opposite wall.

Then Oran was called. He got up, moving so stiffly he looked like he was made of wood.

"Good luck, Oran," whispered Katara. Juiko nodded.

Oran said nothing, just stepped through the doorway and into the sun before the door closed. It was Katara, Juiko, and three others now.

_This is it_, Katara thought blindly. _If I don't pass this, the whole mission is done for. I'll go home disgraced and shamed, knowing that I had a chance to save Kyoshi but failed. I must get in. I can't lose. I can't afford to. The people of Kyoshi can't afford to._

The last two were called up, one by one. Katara barely registered them. She'd trained with them for awhile—the first one was Utsek, the second Piang—but inside she desperately hoped they'd both fail. There were exactly five spaces in the Elites that needed filling. There were twenty recruits. One-fourth of them would be joining the Elites; the rest of them would be going elsewhere.

An anonymous, male voice called from outside the door, "Katara."

As simple as that. She stood up, trying not to shake. Juiko grasped her hand briefly, and she returned the gesture. She was third to last to go, which mean Juiko and one other boy she didn't know were to be the only ones left in the room.

_Let's get this over with_.

Stepping outside, she was briefly blinded by the harsh sunlight. One hand shading her eyes, she squinted at her surroundings.

The arena was quite a large, rectangular field with seating on the sides and at the far end. The raised platforms at the opposite end held seats that were shaded with red and gold canopies. Probably seating for the royalty and nobles, Katara thought in a far corner of her mind. It was occupied, but not full. The seats on the long sides of the rectangular arena were half-filled, mostly with other Elites come to see who would soon be joining them, and other army officials of sorts. Quite a few spectators. She scanned the large platform at the far end. Lots of people… among which the Emperor was not one.

Katara squinted. The central, most important seat on the platform was unoccupied. Where was he? Her eyes adjusting to the brightness, she turned to look at the rest of the arena behind her.

And there he was. Standing tall and straight behind her, in the center of the field.

Katara swallowed, turning to fully face him. She could feel the hot sun beating down upon her, and she wasn't entirely sure it was just the heat that was making her sweat.

An official-looking man in uniform stepped between the Emperor and Katara. "This match will be conducted between the Fire Emperor Zuko, and the recruit Katara."

Katara blinked. A _match_?

"Rules are as follows: No weapons allowed. No bending allowed. That is all."

No weapons. It was going to be close, contact fighting then? What about all the training they'd had with swords, knives, archery, and spears? It didn't make sense. But it was a good thing no elemental bending, or the Emperor could have fried her to a crisp and finished the match within the first two seconds. Her mind raced. _So it's just a fight? How do we know who wins? Is it even possible for me to win?_

"The judge will be Emperor Zuko."

Had she been in any other situation, Katara would have screamed _unfair!_ But there must have been some other reason for this. She thought it through as the official kept intoning more words into her ears. If he was to be judging her… then it wasn't going to be a win-lose match. She understood now. He would just be testing her, right? Trying her abilities. Seeing if she could handle a situation where she had no weapons and could not bend fire (not that she could in the first place). It was simple.

_I just have to impress him,_ she thought. _It's all about making an impression. I'll fight him, and make sure he remembers me and what I did and it'll get me into the Elites_.

That official was still mumbling. "…respect and honor. Will the duelists please bow."

Katara inclined her head, lower than the Emperor did to her. It was customary, and a sign of respect. Normally if it were two equal fighters matched against each other, they would both bow to the same level. But since she was fighting against the Fire Emperor, ruler of practically the entire world, that meant he did not have to accord as much respect to her as she did to him.

They unbent and straightened. Katara stared across the field at his face. That scar… where had he gotten that scar? It was a clearly defining feature, marring his otherwise clean features and spoke of a darker story. He wasn't wearing any of the traditional heavy metal armor. That was a definite plus for her. They were both dressed in fitting clothes that had no loose pieces that could be grabbed and used by an enemy against them. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Pitiful, weak girl trying to be something she wasn't? _Come on_.

"You may begin." The official stepped back, and the arena was silent.

Katara watched him, watched her enemy as her fists clenched at her sides and her entire body tensed up. She decided to wait for him to come to her. No use wasting her energy running across the field to engage him in a fight first. She would be cautious first. The time for impressive moves could be later. She had to figure this guy out.

They watched each other for a few more seconds, before the Emperor began to move. A slow walk at first, then he broke into a run straight at her. Katara watched him come, eating up the distance between them. _Not exactly subtle, are you?_ His face was intent, focused.

As he neared, Katara shifted to the balls of her feet, entire body tensing up and eyes searching his running frame for any clue of what he would pull next.

He rushed towards her. Ten feet, six feet, five feet, and then he was _in her face_, his fist coming towards her nose—she ducked to the side, eluding his punch. _You're too slow, Emperor!_ His fist whisked past her face, brushing her hair—

And his other hand came up around the side and clipped her on the jaw. Her head snapped back. Not enough for a point-blank impact, but enough so that she stumbled backwards, pain erupting on the side of her jaw.

_Stupid! _How could she have missed that? He wasn't slow—he was goddamn _fast_.

Ignoring the pain, she jabbed back with her right fist, barely brushing his scarred cheek as he jerked back in reflex. His arm came to clip her under the ribs, obviously intending to flip her, but she delivered a quick kick to his abdomen and he gasped before letting her go. In less than a second he was on the attack again.

They were both breathing harshly as they exchanged blows. Katara knew she had one advantage over him. The Emperor had been fighting for over an hour, against all the recruits who had come before her. He must have been tiring. Even if he was a brilliant fighter with amazing endurance, nobody could keep up their energy for that long. She felt sorry for Hiro, who had probably fought the Emperor when he had still had all his energy.

She just had to keep on her feet until he tired out. Katara jerked back as another blow landed on her shoulder. But who would tire first? The Emperor, or the Assassin?

Katara kick him in the kidneys before his arm swiped her leg aside and he came at her again. _I can't keep this up much longer_. She dodged, trying to protect her face, but his knee slammed into her hip, driving her back. Katara gasped, pain exploding across her pelvis. She stumbled, and he took the opportunity to press her back further, putting himself fully on the offensive, and forcing her to take the defensive.

She was at a disadvantage now. Katara blocked as many of the blows as the Emperor threw at her, but he was so fast, a barrage of fists and feet. Wincing as another fist cuffed her ear, she shoved the palm of her flat under his chin and slammed his head up and back with as much strength as she could muster while enduring pain.

He grunted, momentarily distracted, and while he tried to free himself, Katara kneed him violently in the stomach. Hissing in pain, the Emperor twisted his head out of her grasp and grabbed the knee in his abdomen, twisting her sideways and toppling her over onto the ground.

Katara cried out as she hit the dirt, knowing that if she wasn't on her feet in the next second, it was all over. She had to stand up and keep fighting, or he could beat her while she was defenseless on the ground.

She placed one foot beneath her, but the numerous bruises on her knee and the pain in her hip exploded again, causing her to gasp and falter. _Too slow_.

A sharp blow on the middle of her back slammed her flat to the ground again, but not before she caught her assailant's ankle with her foot and _pulled_, tripping him while he was still bent over with his elbow in her back. Katara tried to roll aside as he fell, but he crashed onto her, the breath whooshing out of her lungs.

_Get out of here_! If she stayed under him there would be no chance.

Twisting, she hooked one hip over his bulk, ignoring the pain that caused bright bursts of stars to explode before her eyes. He fought to keep her under, but she scratched him, deep and hard, four bright streaks of red blossoming on his neck. The Emperor tensed and hissed in pain, but it had worked, because now she was on the top, knee planted in his stomach, one hand holding down his moving shoulder, the other fist cocked behind her, ready to deliver a violent blow to his face. She had him at her mercy.

_Do I hit him? When do I stop? When do I win? When is this over?_

Then his own hand shot up and gripped her around the neck, choking her so that the previous bright stars in her vision turned dark and swarmed before her. Her ready fist faltered, her body limp, her hands trying to pull off the vise around her air passageway. She couldn't breathe. Desperate blue eyes stared into the air above the Emperor's head.

"Match over," his majesty said, and the grip around her neck released.

She rolled off him, head bowed to the ground, heaving for air.

The official on the sidelines had caught his Emperor's words. "Match over," he announced louder for the sake of the spectators.

The smattering of applause and calls and shouts from the balconies in the arena reached Katara's ears, reminding her that she and the Emperor weren't the only ones here. She'd completely tuned out during the fight, the crowd becoming nothing while she was focused on defeating her enemy.

A hand invaded her line of sight. The Emperor. She raised her head to look up at him. There was one instant where their gazes locked, but she broke it and reluctantly took his hand. He pulled her up and she couldn't help but notice that he wasn't trembling or shaking from the effort he had just exerted, unlike her. She was still panting for breath.

_Was it that easy for him to defeat me?_

The thought made her disgusted with herself. They bowed to each other formally as the Official told them to, and then were lead to the small barrel of water on the sidelines.

Her breathing having calmed down, Katara found she was incredibly thirsty and gulped down the first cup of water handed to her. The Emperor, on the other hand, sipped slowly. Although the Fire Empire people detested, and to a certain point, feared water, it was still a liquid that was essential to life. The Fire citizens just didn't enjoy it with as much zest as Katara or her Kyoshi family did. Even the climate of the Fire Nation was drier and rained only in the darkest winter months. It could reach extreme temperatures in the summer, the sun beating its heat down onto the packed earth. All the Fire people were used to it. It was their element, after all. It was practically in their blood.

She stood there, unsure of what to do. Would it be too rude to just leave now? Was she supposed to say something to the Emperor?

"It was an honor to fight you, your majesty," she made an awkward little bow. _So who won? Me or You?_

He inclined his head as well, but said nothing. He turned back to the Official and they began to discuss something.

She took it as her cue to leave. Striding across the arena with a slight limp from her injuries, she made it to the opposite end where a man opened a side door for her. Katara stepped through, intent on finding the medic and making sure her bones weren't completely pulverized, but a hand gripped her arm, pulling her back.

She almost cried out, but she was greeted by the sight of Hiro, who put a finger over his lips and made a _shush_ sound.

"Come with me," he whispered, and darted back around the side of the arena walls. She followed, and they came upon a second, smaller door. They slipped through, and climbed a few steps before reaching the top, where Katara could see the entire field she had just fought on spread out below her.

"Are we allowed to be here?" She hissed at Hiro, jerking her arm out of his grasp.

Hiro just shrugged. His usual smile was marred by a swollen lip. "No. Lieutenant Ensei wanted us to go directly to medical and then rest in barracks until we receive the results. But a few of us wanted to stay behind and watch."

He saw her glare at the group of other fighters crowded on the topmost tier of the arena, watching the field intently. Oran was there too, and gave her a small smile.

Hiro nudged Katara gently. "Loosen up! You use fought the Emperor of the Fire Empire, and didn't do too bad a job of it, if what I saw of your fight is true. Come on, don't you want to see how Juiko does?"

Katara relented, but promised her body that she'd go to the medical building as soon as this was over. She settled down next to Oran, wincing at her hip.

"Who do you think is next, Juiko or the other guy?" whispered Oran.

Katara shrugged, but then the door opened and a man who wasn't Juiko jogged out onto the field. All three of them sighed.

As she watched the fight, the images of her own flooded back into her mind. She went over every detail of every move the Emperor had used against her.

_Why didn't I block it when he did that? I should have paid more attention to his near side. Why did I hesitate to punch him at the end? I was celebrating inside my head at my victory. I was stupid. I got overconfident and I lost. He could have killed me right there if he'd wanted to._

"So how'd you guys do?" She finally tore herself away from her memories and asked Oran and Hiro.

Hiro shrugged, easy-going as always. "Not bad, but not good either." They all stared at the field. The Emperor was moving with an almost fluid-like form. "The Emperor—jeez, he's one fast guy. I could barely dodge a single punch he threw at me." Hiro ran a hand through his short hair, almost flustered. Then he looked at Oran.

"Oran here didn't do half-bad himself," Hiro started.

"Except for completely forgetting that the Emperor has two arms instead of one," muttered Oran, rubbing at one temple.

Katara remembered the beginning of her own fight. "Yeah, same happened to me."

"We know," Hiro grinned slyly. "We saw."

Katara tried to shrug it off. They all made mistakes, especially… "So how did Borr the Idiot do?"

"I would have liked to see him trip and fall flat on his face before even having a shot at the Emperor," Hiro said matter-of-factly. "But he was… surprisingly good," he finished grudgingly. "I wouldn't have expected it of that haughty bastard."

Katara growled inside. She wished she could have seen Borr fighting. Then she could have watched his form, picked out his weaknesses. The fact that he'd done well only irked her more.

"Where is he now?" Katara asked.

"Ran off to medical first chance he got, the pansy," Hiro said cheerfully.

The fight below them was ending. The recruit had been thrown to the ground by the Emperor; now they were bowing.

"Juiko's next," Oran said quietly.

A short break, then Juiko trotted out into the arena. All three of them watched their friend carefully.

_No, not my friend_, Katara thought firmly. _My fellow soldier_.

The two figures on the field began to fight. They were too far away to make out facial expressions, but they could see the blows each one was trying to inflict on the other.

"Come on, Juiko, come on," muttered Oran under his breath, eyes trained to the field. "Don't let him push you back, don't let him push you."

Katara winced inside as she saw that Juiko was in the situation she had been in previously. He was on the defensive, trying to fend off the Emperor's attacks. In doing so, he was backing up towards the sidelines.

"No, Juiko!" Hiro slammed a fist down onto the tier in an unexpected display of emotion. "Come on! Elites won't be right without you!"

_That's assuming any of us get in_, Katara thought. But she kept it to herself.

Juiko looked desperate. He was practically in the sidelines now, in a continuous backwards step, almost as if he were fleeing from the Emperor's onslaught.

"Oh, shit," said Hiro right before Juiko slammed into the water barrel, knocking it over and falling down as he tripped over the wood of the barrel. On his back, Juiko tried to get up, knowing that the end was coming as the Emperor bore down upon the helpless figure.

Juiko twisted desperately, and a wide, clear-cut stream of water shot up from the dribbling remains of the barrel, slamming into the Emperor's face.

Katara's heart froze.

"_Fuck_!" yelled Hiro, and Katara knew her eyes had not deceived her. "What the _fuck_ was that?"

Oran was shaking his head from side-to-side, muttering something to himself under his breath. The other recruits on the tier let out their own expletives and sat up, alert and straining to see the events unfolding on the field. The Emperor had let out a roar of rage at the watery attack, and immediately let a blast of fire through the air, diminishing the water to mere steam. Juiko threw up a hand, another wall of water flying up and bearing down on the Emperor. Emperor Zuko had identified his enemy and was letting out controlled, roiling columns of flame at Juiko, who was still scrambling on the ground. Some part of the fire must have made contact with him, because Juiko let out a scream of pain.

Soldiers, officials, nobles, Elites, and recruits all over the arena erupted into a violent, shouting mob, thundering down the steps to the field towards their sovereign.

"—who the _hell_ is that frigging bastard—"

"—he's attacking the Emperor! Get him! Get him! He's trying to kill Emperor Zuko!"

"—I thought they were all gone! The first Zuko killed them all—"

"—Impossible! Just impossible! A rebel inside the army complex?—"

"—well there's one left, and he's not gonna be around for long, not if I have anything to say about the fucker—"

Katara stared, unmoving at the wide streams of water Juiko was commanding against the Emperor. Droplets pierced the air, raining down to drown out the flame, before dissipating into steam. Juiko's arms moved wildly and he was on his feet now, sweating with the effort needed to control the water against the Emperor's fiery attacks. Juiko was commanding the water, something only Katara was supposed to be able to do.

_There's another one._

And her reverie was broken as Hiro was shouting something in her ear, tugging her down the steps, back to the field. He was yelling something about protecting the Emperor and arresting Juiko. But Katara's mind was filled with thoughts of _why didn't I know? Why—how did he—I'm not the only—he's a Water bender too—impossible, he's going to die, he's going to die now oh but before he does I need him to teach me that move he's making I've never tried it I need him to teach me please._

She was in an utter daze. The only reason she was moving was because Hiro had her by the arm, holding her with an iron grip and helping her to not trip down the stairs. His voice pierced her ears.

"—I know it's a shock to me too, Katara, but we gotta go down there, work with me here, how could he the _bastard_, how did he hide it from us? I can't believe it—"

Katara stumbled down the stairs, eyes staring blankly ahead, caught up in the maelstrom of her own thoughts.

By the time they got down there, several dozen pissed-off soldiers had Juiko on the ground and apprehended. Judging from the grunts and angry shouts, they were being none too gentle with him. The Emperor Zuko was being held on the other side. He was being literally held by several members of the Elites while a nervous doctor checked him for injuries that might have been inflicted by that deranged, dangerous Water bender traitor—

The expression on Emperor Zuko's face was one of pure rage as he struggled to get as his enemy. Katara turned away from him, diving through the crowd of soldiers surrounding Juiko. Crawling on her hands and knees, she pushed forward with a determination that knocked several men over, until she reached Juiko.

He was lying face-down on the dirt, his arms pinned behind his back, several arms gripping his shoulders, elbows, thighs, knees, and feet. His nose was bleeding, and there were numerous bruises on his face.

Katara screamed out loud as another soldier drew back his foot to kick Juiko in the ribs again.

"Stop it! Stop doing that, listen to me you—" She tried feebly to brush away the people terrorizing Juiko, but she was swiped aside with little effort, then hauled up to her feet by a burly man who was dressed in a Navy uniform.

"Crazy bitch! Don't you understand?" He shook her violently so that her head snapped back and forth. "Don't you understand who this bastard is?"

She would have answered but speaking was an impossibility as her world rocked around her. She didn't think her feet were even touching the ground anywhere as the Navy man yelled at her.

"He's a fucking _Water bender_! He's a rebel! He was attacking our Emperor! He's worse than an Earth bender! He deserves to die a slow, painful—"

Just when Katara thought her head was about to disconnect from her neck, other hands pulled her violently from the Navy sailor, and she saw Hiro's earnest face speaking above her.

"—Just in shock you know, they were good friends, totally doesn't understand what she's saying, I'll get her to the doctor's quick as possible—" Hiro's argument seemed to convince the big, burly man and he turned back to the real victim on the dirt. The bastardly, lower-than-a-cockroach Water bender.

Hauling her out of the crowd, Hiro dragged her out of the arena, where the walls shut out the sounds of screaming and cursing inside.

"_Katara_!" He hissed at her. "What did you think you were doing?"

"Just, just trying to help Juiko. They were hurting him, Hiro, they were kicking him and—"

"Well what did you think they were going to do? Welcome him with open arms?" Hiro threw up his hands and began to pace in a circle.

It was strangely quiet outside. Katara leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of everything.

"Is he a—" She choked on the words. "Is he a, a Water bender?"

Hiro turned to face her, disbelief and denial and a bit of sadness all over his face. "I really don't want him to be."

_What we want never matters_.

They sat together, leaning against the wall as time passed and both the Emperor and Juiko left the arena. The Emperor Zuko stormed through the doors, a handful of advisors and nobles and doctors trailing after him. His neck was still bleeding, something many of his subjects considered terrifying and life-threatening. Katara, sitting on the ground next to Hiro, wondered if she should tell them that it wasn't a deadly Water bender wound—merely some scratches inflicted by a no-name girl who wanted to be in the Elites.

They two of them watched the Emperor and his retinue pass by.

Then Juiko was lead out. He was still surrounded by a crowd of angry soldiers, many of them Elites. Katara noticed that Oran was one of the men roughly hauling Juiko's body along. Since Juiko was unconscious, he was being carried, but it didn't seem to matter to the soldiers whether he got dropped a few times on the way or his foot kept scraping the ground. The group was lead by Ensei, who had a small smear of blood across one clean-shaven cheek. The blonde man was striding at the head of the entourage, a cold and deadly expression on his face.

"Hey Lieutenant!" called Hiro. "Where are you taking him?"

Without breaking stride, Lt. Ensei snapped out a curt, "To the jail. Where scum like him _belongs_."

Corporal San, who was carrying one of Juiko's shoulders, yelled, "And the bastard's execution's tomorrow at dawn! The sooner he's dead, the better."

Several other soldiers, upon hearing this, cheered and shook fists.

Then they were gone as quickly as they'd come.

The world suddenly seemed very bleak. Hiro closed his eyes and set his head against the stone wall.

"I didn't expect this to happen," he said.

"Me neither," Katara answered, staring blankly at the backs of the men carrying the Water bender away.

* * *

It was cold, very cold when Katara crawled out of her bunk and slipped on her shoes. Hiro was snoring softly above her, and Oran and Guhan were asleep as well. The bunk across from her was empty, it's previous occupant in a far more sinister place tonight. 

Pattering across the floor, she opened the door and eased through, closing it gently behind her.

She jogged across the moonlit ground of the army complex, towards where she knew the jail cells were located. It was nothing big, not like the real dungeons in the royal palace, but it served to hold unruly or drunk soldiers if they got out of hand.

There was one guard outside the doors. The other one must have been inside. He stopped her as she neared, drawing a bright metal sword.

"I… I need to see the prisoner," she said, trying for a steady voice.

"No visitors allowed." One of the guards intoned solemnly.

Standing there, Katara felt like the dumbest fool on the planet. What had she expected when she'd run out here tonight? A free ticket inside? A red carpet welcoming her into the cells? Despair washed through her. _I need to talk to him_.

Just before she was about to turn around and leave, defeated, a rustle came from inside and the door opened, the second guard coming out. Katara caught the barest glimpse of a moving shadow behind him inside the building. She blinked. Must have been a trick of the moonlight.

The guard who had just come outside gave her a strange look. "You—you can go in."

Katara stood there, too shocked to say anything but "Huh?"

The first guard had the same reaction she did. "What are you talking about, Wang? The girl gets to go inside?"

Wang stood stiff at attention. "I received orders earlier that she was to be allowed to see the prisoner. Exclusive orders."

The original guard gave Wang a disbelieving look, and then shot Katara a suspicious glance.

Well, she, for one, wasn't going to look the gift horse in the mouth. Striding between the guards, she walked into the jail building. Neither of them stopped her.

It was pitch-black inside. Katara felt her way along using the metal bars of the cells, until she came to the last one. There was a small, flickering torch on the wall inside the metal-barred room that illuminated the figure spread out on the dirty ground.

Katara sank to her knees. "Juiko?" She ventured. "Juiko—are you awake?"

A groan was all that answered her.

"Juiko. I need to talk to you."

"What?" came the slurred reply. He didn't move.

"Who… who are you, Juiko?"

Now his head lifted off the ground, just enough so the torchlight caught the fevered look in his eyes. "Do you really want to know, Katara?"

She swallowed. "Yes."

"Well I don't have to tell you." Juiko shifted.

Katara couldn't believe it. This wasn't the generous, kind-hearted Juiko she'd known for three weeks. This wasn't the Juiko who'd become her… her _friend_.

"You need to, Juiko. You need to tell me. You owe it to me for lying."

"I don't owe you fuckers anything. You uptight Fire fuckers who think you own the world. I don't _need_ to tell you anything, Katara." Juiko's dark figure shifted and he groaned in pain.

Katara sat there in the dark. _But I'm not a Fire citizen!_ She wanted to scream out loud. _I'm not! I'm like you! I'm one of you, Juiko!_

But there were guards standing right outside the door. She felt sorry for Juiko, she really did. She wished she could take him to the doctor and get him cleaned up and fed and taken care of. She wished she could save him from his grisly execution.

But she would not risk her own identity in order to help him.

Katara would not risk jeopardizing her mission to save Juiko.

It was callous, and dirty, and ugly, and everything Katara didn't want to be.

_I'm trying to save a whole culture, Juiko. An ancient culture which has thrived on one island for thousands of years. To do so, I must make sacrifices. _

_You are not the first, and I don't think you will be the last_.

Eventually the silence was broken up by Juiko's mumbling again. "But I'm glad you came to talk to me, Katara. I'm glad you could come hear and bear the stink of my Water bender flesh and risk my defective talents in order to get so close to me. You could get contaminated you know," he said in a sing-song voice.

He was delirious, she knew. Knocked out from the pain and the shock of what had happened to him.

"What made you lose control, Juiko," she said softly through the cold metal bars. "What made you throw off your cover?"

"My cover? My cover because I'm a spy. I lost it because that crazy Emperor was gonna kill me, he was gonna kill me I could see it in his eyes, Katara." Juiko mumbled and shifted again. "But it doesn't matter 'cause I'm gonna die anyways, aren't I?"

Katara swallowed. "Yes, you are." It was cruel to say, but it was be even crueler to lie to him in his last hours.

"Yeah well I guess that's okay. That fucker Emperor was just here a few minutes ago, did you know? He wanted _information_ from me. Well I'm not giving nobody any frigging _information_, Katara. I'm not gonna tell anybody about my people."

_Your people_, Katara caught the words. _There are more of you. Of us._

A long, drawn-out sigh. It seemed like Juiko couldn't stop the words from pouring out. "But I guess I can trust you, right Katara?"

She nodded before she remembered he couldn't see. "Yes, yes of course you can, Juiko."

A scoff and laugh echoed throughout the cell, choked from Juiko's mouth. "Yeah, _right_, you're just as bitchy as the rest of them. Like I can trust anybody in this place. But it don't matter anymore, do it? I guess I can tell you anything and they'll still kill me."

Katara didn't want to interrupt him. Her grip on the metal bars grew tighter.

"Well I'm a fucking Water bender, as everyone seems to know now. Yeah I'm a spy too, a rebel spy. I'm here 'cause my people are tired of that stinking Emperor tellin' us what to do and ruling us and taking over the world. It didn't used to be like this. It used to be everyone was free and stuff. Could bend whatever you want. Could bend any type of shit you wanted."

A cough and what sounded like vomiting from inside the cell. Then he started again.

"Could bend anything and nobody would get you for it. But now it's just fire, fire, fire. I get so tired of that fucking fire sometimes. Don't even need it that much. Water is what we need, Katara. Water. Not just water. Used to be four nations. Fire, Water, Air, and one more… I forget it."

"Earth," she whispered softly.

"Yeah! Yeah, that one."

"Where are your people, Juiko? Are there more of them… like you?"

"No!" He struggled to sit up. "No! I won't tell you that. Anything but I won't tell you where my family is. There's not much anyway. Just me and my mom and my dad but he's dead now. There's other people too, but not all benders. Mostly Earth refugees who are just as tired as me of the Fire Empire's bullshit. Those Earth people, Kat, they got minds too. They're humans too, not like the slaves the Fire benders keep them as. They're good people, the Earth benders. Real good help."

Katara didn't know if she felt like crying or screaming. Maybe both.

Juiko sighed again. "Well I guess that's it. I don't want to talk anymore. I want to spend the last few hours of my life in quiet."

Katara shifted as if to leave, but then Juiko's head shot up faster than he should have been able to move it. She froze, and could see beyond the muddy, feverish glare in his brown eyes. Beyond it was clarity, and truth as clear as death.

"Even though you're a screwed up Fire fucker, Katara, I gotta say I still liked you for awhile. We were good friends, huh?"

She nodded, trapped in her place by his stare.

"Yeah well, don't get too fond of this world, Kat. Don't… don't fall in love with it too much. 'Cause it never matters in the end, anyways."

His head lolled back, and he said nothing more.

Katara fought to get out of that place, that stifling darkness. She fought to escape the lies she'd told Juiko, the cruel things she made him believe. She could have given him the companionship of one of his own people in his final hours. The companionship of a fellow Water bender. But she was too selfish. Too concerned with herself, too scared for her own life to risk helping Juiko.

She scrambled for a hold on the smooth metal bars, scuffing her knee in the process as she ran from the shadows that were chasing her. She could have sworn the shadows were moving, following her everywhere.

Katara burst out into the bright moonlight, ignoring the surprised cries of the two jail guards. She ran, past the barracks untitl she reached the arena. It was empty now, devoid of any human voices. Pulling open the door Hiro had lead her through earlier that day after her fight, she climbed the stairs until she reached the topmost balcony. She settled in a corner, the cold stone of the structure hard and unyielding against her shaking back.

The Water bender tried to control the trembling of her limbs, the dry, choking rasp of her throat as she struggled to fill her lungs with air. She lay her head against the freezing, smooth wall of stone, willing the chill to seep into her body and wash away the hot, filling lump in her chest and throat.

"Did you love him?" A shadow detached itself from the wall and came towards her.

Katara didn't start or scream. In a subconscious corner of her mind, she'd known the dark shape was following her, dodging her steps across the army grounds, as silent and swift as death.

The tall shadow stopped a few steps before her curled figure. The reflected light from the moon revealed the scarred, disfigured face, oddly calm in the soft glow.

"Who?" Katara asked.

"The Water bender boy. Did you love him?"

"No." Simple and clear.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I'm not."

Emperor Zuko settled onto the cold seat that she was leaning against. "Then what are you doing?"

She ignored his question. "I know you were there. I know you were in the jail when Juiko and I were talking."

"So?" His voice was calm and low. So unlike his earlier rage this morning when he'd found out what Juiko was. It scared Katara, that somebody couold transition so drastically between serenity and flaming-hot temper. "It's my army. It's my military. It's my jail."

"It's rude to eavesdrop."

"Good thing you didn't say anything revealing then."

For some reason, it seemed perfectly normal for her to be talking like equals with the Emperor of the Fire Empire. It seemed perfectly normal for them to be sitting in an empty arena under the cold moonlight chatting about the traitorous rebel who was to be executed tomorrow morning. Katara supposed that the next morning she'd wake up and ask herself what she had been thinking, talking to Emperor Zuko as if they were perfect equals, instead of him being ruler of the world and her a lowly soldier. Instead of him being the murderer out to kill her people, and her the secret assassin sent to kill him.

Good thing she hadn't said anything revealing, the Emperor had said. Katara had to shove down an insane laugh at the thought of what would have happened if she'd let go of her paranoia and revealed to Juiko who she really was. The Emperor would have overheard and she would have been thrown in that cell next to Juiko faster than she could blink an eye. And tomorrow she would be right there up next to Juiko, burning and flaming her way to the afterlife.

The fear of the fire seared her frozen insides quicker than she thought possible. She broke into a sweat, battling that bonfire in her dreams. The Emperor was staring at her, she was sure of it. He was reading her mind, breaking down her defenses with those cruel gold eyes of his. The primal urge to flee rose inside her.

The moment was broken when Katara stood up, averting her eyes from the Emperor's face.

"Good night, sir." She bowed and left, clattering down the steps before he could say anything.

Back in her bed inside the warm, heated barracks, she lay there for hours, willing her pounding heart to let her sleep.

fjdla;jwiaojfeiwo;jgeiowajeioawjoiejaiofjwe;ofjewio;JFIOEJ

Katara stood next to Hiro in the bright morning, eyes trained on the large pile of dry wood. There was one straight, tall pole erected on top, with ropes slung loosely around it, waiting for the criminal. She looked around at the crowd. It was gigantic, probably filling up three-fourths of the stadium. Soldiers, Fire benders, sailors, Eliltes, noblemen, advisors, commanders, generals, admirals and relatives of the royalty crowded the field. Some were talking energetically, others were frowning worriedly and the general mood was that of an exicted mob waiting for the entertainment.

Borr, hands crossed over his chest, spoke up. "I heard from two Elites yesterday that the Emperor's advisors are thinking of doing a backround check on all the new recruits that come in."

Katara maintained a casual air. "Don't they already do that? I mean, with the interview and everything?"

"Well, in the interview the recruits only tell the army what the recruits what the army to know. I mean background check as in a thorough background check. You'll need to provide people who'll swear to the officials that you are who you really are. Proof of identity, a list of where you've been the past year, all the jobs you've taken before coming to the army. That sort of thing."

"Sounds like a lot of work to me," said Hiro.

Borr sniffed. "If they'd done it before, bastards like _that_," he nodded towards the pile of kindling where Juiko would be tied, "wouldn't have made it in."

_Bastards like me_, thought Katara.

But all she said was, "Where's Oran?"

Hiro shrugged. "He left this morning and I haven't seen him since."

Katara remembered how Oran had been one of the many soldiers who'd angrily dragged Juiko to jail yesterday. She had a suspicion about where the rebel-hating young man was. It disturbed her.

A loud shout went up, and Katara craned her neck to see above the heads. She wasn't a short woman; there were plenty of men here shorter than her. But there were plenty here taller than her as well.

There he was. Bruised, battered, and bloodied, his hands chained behind his back, a group of angry-looking soldiers hauling him up the side of the wood pile and slamming him to the post. Juiko said nothing during the ordeal. He didn't cry out, didn't scream, didn't struggle. His blank eyes stared straight ahead over the heads of the crowd. Katara saw Oran tying Juiko's hands tightly behind the pole, his face a mask of triumphant rage. The mob of military men began shouting out curses and insults, Juiko registering none of it, his face remaining placid.

She imagined Oran's deadily expression turned towards her. She imagined her body chained up there, the crowd shouting obscenities and death threats at her, a nightmare of enemies. Her back began to sweat, and she knew it wasn't just from the sun.

As soon as Juiko was secured onto the post, the soldiers backed off the large pile of kindling and four Fire benders stepped up, one at each corner. The crowd quieted down gradually, and an old man walked forward until he was standing in front of all the wood. He raised his hands, and a cheer came up from the soldiers before dying down again.

"My countrymen!" His voice was a loud boom echoing through the arena. "We are here today to witness the punishment that befalls a traitor of the Fire Empire."

A loud scream from the crowd, coupled by fist-shaking and encouraging cries. Katara felt like clapping her hands over her ears. But it wouldn't have been appropriate Fire soldier behavior, fearing loud noises. So instead she clapped her hands together in polite applause.

"He has betrayed our great monarch Emperor Zuko, attempting to take the life of his Majesty, and is, as we found out yesterday, a descendent of the Water bender scum that our previous great ruler wiped out a century ago. Now we know that some of the traitors escaped, and bred until they decided to try to overthrow us! Will we let this happen?" The old man shook one fist in the air, and was answered by a resounding angry cry from the crowd. "Will we let them defeat us?"

The volume of shouting increased to a peak. Katara caught sight of the Emperor Zuko seated on the raised platform above the field. He was sitting in a relaxed but kingly pose, watching his subjects cry their encouragement to him. He was too far away for Katara to see the expression on his face.

"Now will see this Water bender betrayer _burn!_" The old man stepped aside, and Katara saw Emperor Zuko desecend to the field from his throne. The soldiers cleared a respectful path for him until he reached Juiko.

Everyone was silent, waiting for the Emperor to make some sort of speech. But his Majesty didn't. The Emperor stared Juiko in his blank, absent eyes for a long second. Juiko didn't blink or look away, but neither did the Emperor.

Emperor Zuko kept eye contact with the criminal as he raised one hand and let out a burst of flame that lit the wood at his feet alight. The four Fire benders at the corners followed him and did the same. Soon, the wood pile was a burning, writhing mass of fire, reaching higher and higher until it was finally licking at Juiko's limp feet.

The crowd was screaming again, chanting something, waiting for a reaction from the Water bender tied above the flames. Katara expected him to start writhing and screaming in pain as the fire caught on his clothes. But he didn't move.

The smell of burning flesh began to permeat the crowds, and Katara felt like choking and vomiting all over the grass. But she retained her composure, eyes trained desperately on Juiko's face. Was he unconscious? Oh please let him be unconscious. Please let him not feel the fiery pain. Please let him go quickly.

The fire had consumed him up to the waist before Juiko finally made a sound. But it wasn't crying or begging or pleading or screaming, which was what was expected of burning victims.

Instead, he began to laugh. Long and loud and hard, the sound drifted over the field into the ears of the dumbstruck viewers. He laughed his way to his death and Katara felt it in her very bones. His previously blank stare snapped open and she knew, just _knew_ that he was staring straight at her and laughing, mocking her with his last dying breath.

_Do you see me here, Katara? Do you see what's happening to me? This is your future. It's you up here, burning to ashes. _

She swallowed, keeping their gazes locked and trying to force back tears. She didn't look at Hiro or Borr next to her, because she didn't want to find out their reactions. She didn't search the crowd for Oran's face, because she didn't want to see him cheering their ex-friend to his death.

It seemed like an eternity until the fire crawled up Juiko's throat and shut off his life and his voice, reducing his face and his figure to a pile of crumbling pones tied to a burnt-out post. The embers and charcoal littering the ground were black, sifting ashes drifting through the air. The smoke and ash clogged Katara's throat, bothering her eyes until they watered. She couldn't breathe for a full moment as she coughed, her mind despairing and racing.

_I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I want to see my brother and Suki, I want the Mistress to love me, I want to go home and finally fall asleep without worrying about the things I said during the day, if anyone was suspicious of me for being something I said I wasn't. I want to go back to my old life. I can't stand it here anymore.  
_

_I want to leave this place of death. _

Little licks of flame were still alive when the Emperor Zuko climbed up to the platform again and faced the crowd. In a clear voice, he announced, "The results of the Elite examinations are ready. Those who's names are announced are honored with the chance to join the Elite force. If you hear your name, report to Lt. Ensei as soon as possible for your post and your new barracks assignment."

Katara's eyes were still trained on the remains of Juiko, her ears barely registering any sound. _I want to go home._

"Hiro."

A cheer and polite applause rose as Hiro left his place next to her to find Lt. Ensei.

"Oran. Borr."

The haughty noble's son next to her left too, creating an empty space around Katara.

"Utsek."

Juiko's skull still had bits of burnt flesh clinging to the dirty-gray surface. How utterly gruesome.

_I want to be a Kyoshi warrior, not an Elite soldier. _

"And the final new Elite is Katara."

* * *

A/N: Juiko is probably doomed to die in every single one of my fics. Congrats to those of you who predicted it, or at least were suspicious of him. I thought I put in quite a few clues to his shadyness. You guys all get a virtual cookie. Ahem. I also found out from another good reviewer that MARK HAMILL who was Luke Skywalker in the original Star Wars movies is the voice of LORD OZAI. I didn't see the episode with Lord Ozai though, so I never heard his voice. And I found out the existence of Zula, Zuko's little sister. 

On an even happier note, I've received an award! Not for this fic, but for THATP. It's from the Avatar fansite Unseen Paths and the webmistress of that site, Lala-Ness. It's beautiful and wonderful and great and I'm honored to have it. I've posted a link to it in my profile.

Also in my profile is a link to my LJ (my username is UNDERSCORErednovember, won't let me type the underscore here). Friend me, add me, whatever. I need more friends, and I will certainly add you back. My LJ is going to be used as a way to communicate with readers about updates and maybe even short side stories that I might not post here and previews of sorts. AND join the community kataraUNDERSCOREzuko if you are a K/Z fan! Promote the ship!

As for the OC vote, Hiro was definitely most popular, with Borr most hated. Lt. Ensei recieved mixed reviews... I personally like his bad-ass, bad-boy attitude. As a side note, he's pretty handsome too, not that our angsty little Katara has noticed yet.


	6. A New Life

**Chapter 6: A New Life**

Their entrance into the Elite Force was nothing special. They—all five of them—lined up on the field of the arena. Katara snuck a quick look at the spot where Juiko had burned to his death just that very morning. There was nothing to show for it; the dirt was as brown and uniform as the dirt under Katara's feet. She wondered what they had done with the remains. probably dumped them in a ditch somewhere, as befitted Water bender scum.

She turned her attention back to Lt. Ensei, who was strolling in front of them, occasionally pulling the cigarette out of his mouth to exhale softly. She noticed the small yellow ponytail tied low at the nape of his neck, which was a bit strange. Many of the men here kept their hair long, but for the older men, it was usually tied in a top knot. For the younger ones, such as Hiro and the Emperor Zuko, hair was tied high on the head. Maybe Lt. Ensei just didn't like the current styles, Katara thought.

He turned to face them, hands clasped behind his back, cigarette held loosely at the corner of his mouth. "I won't mince words with you guys," he started. Katara thought it amazing that his speech was perfectly clear even with that cigarette between his lips. Did he practice?

"This is a really bad time to join if you value your useless lives," Ensei continued to drawl. His expression looked like he didn't give a damn whether they cared or not. "Those rebels are gettin' notions."

The lieutenant began to pace again. "Notions like... spreading. Like moving onto our territory. Reports coming from the Northern Earth Province telling us the rebs gettin' fidgety and shit. Starting to attack our bases and setting up their own forts and raiding our civilians."

Hiro shifted uneasily next to her. Oran stood straight at attention.

"Add on the fact that we just had our own little Water bender drama this morning. If one of 'em got in here, it means there's even more 'em out _there_."

Ensei took a long draw on his cigarette again. Katara failed to see the advantages of sucking on a smoke-producing little twig all day long. But she was, at heart, a Water bender, so she didn't expect herself to understand.

The lieutenant pulled a crumbled piece of paper from one pants pocket. Katara caught a glimpse of an official-looking seal on it before Ensei cleared his throat and began:

"The postings are as follows. Borr and Utsek in Patrol 6 under Lt. Sakai. Oran you're with Corporal San of Patrol 4—don't look so worried, the Corporal's a good guy—"

Ensei's eyes skimmed over Katara and Hiro. "And you two are with me. Don't look so scared, girlie, I'm a good guy too."

Katara gritted her teeth but didn't say anything. Look scared? Her expression hadn't even twitched when Ensei looked at her. Was he purposefully getting under her skin?

"Now report to your new home sweet home. You two—" He pointed at Hiro and Katara. "—Come with me." They began to walk back to the Elite's barracks, Ensei strolling a little ahead of them.

"Now I'm supposed to give you some crap speech about being honored to serve the Empire or whatever, but I'm not usually up for that kind of strenuous exercise." He gave them a sidelong look. "To me, there's only one thing you really gotta know. You serve the Emperor first, me second, your fellow soldiers third, and yourself last. Got me?"

They both nodded. What else could they say?

Entering their new room, Katara noticed that both her bag and Hiro's were already there, thrown on the top mattresses of two sets of bunk bends. The bottom bunks had various personal items scattered over the top. Their new "fellow soldiers". She wondered where they were.

"This is home sweet home," Lt. Ensei stood in the doorway, tapping one foot casually against the wooden floor. "Me and the other leaders get our own private quarters. You'll meet the other two members of Patrol One soon enough - I think they're in the armory or at the sparring ring."

Ensei looked pensive for a moment before focusing on Hiro and Katara again. "Well I'll let you two kids get settled in. If I find them, I'll send Faozu and Qin over to meet ya."

And with that, he left, leaving Hiro and Katara in the dusty silence.

Katara turned and climbed onto her bunk to begin unpacking. There were four shelves built into the wall above the foot of the bed, and two longer ones running along the side wall. She found that that actual bed frame had two drawers that she could slide out. It was more than enough storage, since she didn't have all that much stuff in the first place.

After a few minutes of unpacking, the door was thrown open and two men swaggered in, dusty and sweaty. Their loud conversation broke off as soon as they caught sight of the two new Elites.

"Eh, you two the ones Lt. Ensei told us to haul our asses over here for?" A man with laughing, light-brown eyes smiled good-naturedly at them. "I'm Qin and this here's Faozu." He slapped his companion on the shoulder.

Faozu smiled genuinely, but without the same gusto Qin had. He was a large, almost burly man. Qin, on the other hand, was shorter and slimmer than his friend. They made a curious contrast.

Hiro jumped down from the bunk and clasped hands warmly with Qin. "I'm Hiro, and the other new one is Katara, over there." He pointed with one hand at Katara, who had also climbed down from her bed. She merely smiled. Hiro had already introduced her to everyone.

Qin, momentarily silenced at first, regained his composure and laughed, slapping Katara lightly on the back. She tried not to stumble forwards from the force. "You that girl everyone's talking about? No problem. If you can hold your own in a fight against the enemy, there's nothing I'm gonna complain about. Hell, if you can throw a knife as good as everyone says you can, you could be a little old granny and I wouldn't give a damn."

Katara smiled and relaxed. These two seemed like nice enough people. She'd been tense at first, wondering if a conflict would arise concerning her gender. She'd met plenty of sexist people already (unwanted images of Borr came forth), and meeting another one in her own Patrol would have been hard to take without arguments erupting.

Qin threw two packages at them, one each for Hiro and Katara. "Lieutenant told me to give you these."

Katara unfolded hers to reveal two sets of black clothes, complete with short-sleeved shirt, long-sleeved shirt, long pants, light jacket, and thick jacket. They were all made of good material and had numerous pockets for weapons and other items.

"Your new uniforms!" Qin grinned, plucking at is own black sleeve. "Not real flashy, I know. The Fire benders like to show off their pretty red colors but we Elites've got more taste than that, eh, Faozu?"

Faozu nodded before sitting on his bunk, the one underneath Hiro's. "We get the rest of the day off," he said.

Qin leaned against the doorway and sighed happily. "A rare vacation. How 'bout we go into the city? Treat the newcomers to a drink or two."

Hiro said, "Sounds good to me."

Faozu nodded his compliance. He didn't seem like the type to waste breath on unnecessary talk.

Katara shrugged. "Anything's okay with me."

Qin smiled and pushed himself from the doorframe. "Alright! You guys change and then we'll go. Me and Faozu'll wait outside. The bathroom is the door in the back—the Patrols each get a private shower and toilet."

Hiro whistled in appreciation as he opened the bathroom door and peered inside. "Not bad."

"Yeah," Qin grinned even wider. "The Emp knows how to treat his men well."

They left, and Katara closed the door of the bathroom behind her to change. The long-sleeved shirt and the pants went on. She would leave all the rest behind in her bed drawers, until she needed them again. The cuffs of the shirt she had to roll up, as well as the pants legs, or else they would drag on the ground. She'd have to ask the lieutenant later for a smaller size; loose, flapping clothes presented a danger in fighting. The cloth could get caught on the enemy's weapons, rendering her immobile and a much easier target.

Katara exited the bathroom after first knocking on the door and asking out loud of Hiro was ready yet.

"Don't we look professional?" Hiro grinned, then became sober. "I really didn't expect to get in. I never thought in a million years I would be an Elite."

"Me neither." Katara answered softly.

They went outside to find Qin and Faozu lounging around.

"You guys ready? Let's go then." Qin said, and they set off for the city.

"If Lt. Ensei's already there, I'll need to ask him for a smaller size." Katara picked at the sleeve of her shirt.

Qin cast her a look out of the corner of his eyes. "Your's _is_ the smallest size. But you can probably get a needle and thread and fix it up according to your own needs. It's what most of us do."

As they passed through the city gate, waved through by a soldier who was obviously a friend of Qin's, for they exchanged friendly pleasantries, Katara remembered that this would be the first time she had been back in Kotzut since her gauntlet, so many long weeks ago. It felt like an eternity since she'd first set foot on Fire Empire land.

And now she was here to stay, for better or worse, until she achieved her goal.

Pushing through the crowds, Qin led the way to a medium-sized pub on the side of the road. The sign hanging above the door stated _The Filthy Rose_ with a picture of a red, green-thorned blossom drenched in a brown liquid that Katara guessed was some sort of crude alcohol.

It was dark inside, the few shafts of light poking in from various entryways and skylights were riddled with dust, and the smell of beer and smoke hit Katara smack in the face. She took in a deep breath and told herself to get used to it. Looking around, she spotted several black-clad figures lounging at various tables throughout the room, tipping back cups or mugs of gold-colored liquid. The other guests in the pub seemed to give the Elites their own space, whether from fear or respect, Katara couldn't tell.

A tall, golden-haired figure strode out of the dusky shadows and gave them all an appraising look. "So you made it," Lt. Ensei said, exhaling smoke that spiraled up, mingling with the other smells inside the pub. "There's a table of us in the back already."

As they filtered through the crowd, following the tall, straight-backed frame of the lieutenant, Katara caught snatched of other conversations floating through the smoky air. They passed by a table surrounded by Elites who were listening to the enthusiastic talk of what seemed like their leader.

"—moving to slow! The rebels seized Fort Iset just last week! Damn bunch of overconfident bastards, thinking they can take our land and kill our men without any consequences. There _should_ be consequences! The Emperor's holding us back! He's too young to understand this sort of thing, if you ask me—"

"Good thing no one's asking you, Sakai." Lt. Ensei drawled, coming to a stop next to the table. The man who had been speaking looked up in surprise then scowled. With a start, Katara recognized the thin scar underneath his eye. She'd given that to him, back during the gauntlet. This was the man she'd marked.

"I wasn't talking to you, Ensei." Sakai slouched in his seat, and his five comrades—including, Katara realized, Borr and Utsek—turned to glare at the lieutenant as well.

"But you were talking loud enough for half the pub to hear you, which includes me." Ensei exhaled a thin cloud of smoke that passed directly over Sakai's head. "And the sort of thing you were yelling about—words against the Emperor, disobeying orders—that could be taken only as something I like to call rebellious talk."

Sakai froze, cold eyes flickering over the blonde man's face. "What are you getting at, Ensei?" he hissed.

The lieutenant flicked a bit of ash from his cigarette. "A little thing called _treason_."

A slam on the table and Sakai was standing, face snarling, inches away from the calm expression plastered over Ensei's features. "At least I have my own opinions, Ensei! At least I am my own man!" Sakai smirked now. "How is the Emperor's bed these days, lieutenant? Warm?"

The lieutenant didn't even blink, but breathed out smoke straight into Sakai's face. "Jealousy is a normal reaction, Sakai. Your father probably doesn't put out half as good."

Sakai sputtered with indignation.

Lt. Ensei waved a careless hand. "Don't look so surprised. We all know that it's only because of Daddy Huang that you're leader of your own Patrol."

"I don't know _what_ you're talking about—"

Ensei smiled. "Oh, but you do, Sakai."

And with that, the lieutenant turned and walked off, followed by a silent Patrol One. Katara turned her face to avoid looking at Sakai as she walked past.

But it was too late, for as she tried to scurry past, the already-enraged man grabbed her arm and yanked her to face him. "Hey! You're that girl who—"

In a flash, Ensei was by her side and removing Sakai's hand from her arm. "Save it for the sparring ring, Sakai." The lieutenant said, calm as ever. But Katara didn't miss the wince of pain that came from Sakai as the lieutenant peeled the other man's hand away off of Katara's wrist. "Elite business doesn't go public."

Slightly shaken, Katara followed the lieutenant to the back, where they sat down at an empty table next to another Patrol. Ensei, Qin, and Faozu exchanged greetings with the other Elites. They'd all obviously known each other longer. Introductions were made and Hiro and Katara said the customary greetings before drinks were ordered and backs relaxed onto chairs.

However, there was something still nagging at Katara's mind.

"What Sakai said back there—" she stumbled slightly over her words. "—did he say that you, sir, were—were _sleeping_ with the, um, the—"

"The Emperor?" Qin finished for her, a look of amusement on his face.

Katara nodded, embarrassed.

Ensei didn't even seem to notice a single word she'd said. Instead, he had one foot propped up on an empty chair and one hand holding a bottle of something that he took a swig of once in awhile, his eyes vacant over the crowd as if somewhere else.

Corporal San from the table next to them laughed and said, "That's just another way of saying the lieutenant's _loyal_, Katara."

"Unlike that mutinous Sakai," Faozu said.

"Elite slang, Kat." Qin smiled before taking a drink from his own bottle. "You'll get used to it."

"But if Sakai's talking treason against the Emperor," Hiro started. "Doesn't that make him, well, you know, dangerous?"

Ensei turned and smiled amicably at Hiro. "If Sakai were truly dangerous, he'd be dead."

Somehow, Katara didn't doubt his words. Neither did Hiro, judging from the expression on his face.

Lt. Ensei set his bottle on the table and leaned forward. "We keep him around, San and me, because he's loud and obnoxious. He gives us an idea of what some of the more disgruntled members of the army are thinking, let's us know what the not-as-loyal soldiers think of the Emp and such. They're all as loud as a pack of barking dogs, but shut up if you kick 'em hard enough."

"Besides, someone's gotta die in battle." Corporal San smirked.

They all finished their drinks quick enough, and soon became engaged in what seemed like an age-old debate on the merits of a standard bow compared to one of those new-fangled crossbows. Katara sat quietly and sipped her cold and bitter… whatever-it-was. Most definitely some sort of alcohol, because Qin and San, who'd finished theirs already, were talking louder than normal and with more abandon than usual. As for herself, who knew what sort of things she might say if she became intoxicated? It was too much of a danger to even think about.

Then she noticed Hiro's eyes fixated on something behind and above her. Before she could turn around, a hand descended on her shoulder and a woman's voice spoke out, loud and cheerful.

"Katara! Dearest niece! I didn't expect to find you here, of all places. What's brought you to the capital? Is your father here with you?"  
Katara was momentarily panicked before the familiar code words slipped into her comprehending mind and she realized who the stranger was. Standing up, Katara embraced the strange woman who had called her niece.

"Aunt Lori," Katara replied, separating herself while looking at the fellow Kyoshi rebel-in-disguise. She smiled, exuding a familial warmth that she did not feel inside of her. It was a show, a farce for the Elites who were now staring at the exchange between the older woman and the younger. "I'm here by myself. Didn't Father tell you I joined the army?"

"I haven't seen any of the family in Yeriv since last summer," Katara's so-called Aunt Lori laughed and threw her arm around Katara's shoulder in another close embrace. Mindful of the glances the Elite soldiers were giving her, Katara maintained a look of joy and pleasant surprise on her face at greeting a family member who she'd not seen in a long time.

In reality, Katara had never even met this woman before. But Mistress had told her before she left that somebody would contact her in Kotzut, a warrior who was on her way back to the Island from another mission. Information would have to be exchanged now, because after this, Katara wouldn't be seeing another member of her tribe for an indeterminable amount of time.

Katara turned to her fellow soldiers sitting at the table. "Guys, this is my father's sister, Lori. She lives in Omashu but comes to Kotzut a lot for business."

Various greetings came from the men before they soon lost disinterest, drunk as some of them were, and went back to their crossbow debate.

Katara leaned down and tapped Hiro lightly on the shoulder to get his attention before whispering, "I'm going to chat with my aunt for awhile okay? Go back to barracks without me; I'll return when I'm done saying good-bye."

Hiro merely nodded and Katara and Lori left, threading their way out of the dusky pub back into the bright sunlight outside. Still laughing and talking about nonsense topics—"How is your brother doing? Is the farm working out well?"—until they left the main market/business district of Kotzut and entered a grubbier, poorer section of town. This was where the lower-class Earth benders lived.

The minute they descended into the dark light of a side alley, every single ounce of Aunt-ish affection and comfort disappeared from the lines of Lori's face. Katara dropped her own smile and they stood facing each other in the narrow confines of the corridor. The fact that they were from the same tribe was to be observed, but the fact that they were total and utter strangers loomed even larger in their minds. Close touching and caring inquiries were all a farce.

When did I become such a good actress, Katara wondered.

Leaning one shoulder against a dirty brick wall, Lori blew a short strand of brown hair from her face. She was a middle-aged woman, with the tiniest feathery wrinkles and a hint of possible gray. But Katara's eyes could tell she was still lean and fit; a true fighter.  
Her gray eyes staring directly into Katara's blue ones, she wasted no time. "The Master died two days ago," Lori said with a curt voice.

Katara did not react. It was a surprise. She expected to feel some sort of emotion for the man who'd been their leader for such a long time. But none. He wasn't a father figure to her. He had fed her and kept her alive and let her stay in his house. But there had not been any sort of emotional _bonding_ involved. Of course as a child she had strained for his approval. She had worked for it, sweated for it, fought for a word of encouragement and a smile of kindness. She hadn't gotten it.

And now he was dead. Surprise, surprise.

"I'm not sure what of," Lori continued, unknowing of Katara's thoughts, "But he was getting old. Things happen. He was buried at Kyoshi, a good warrior's burial."

Katara nodded. He had deserved it, however little she'd cared for him in the end. She knew that the Mistress would keep governing for awhile, until deemed her daughter and son-in-law ready to rule, then she would resign. Or she might die first. Then Sokka and Suki would step up and take her place.

Lori's eyes were still fixated on Katara's face, as if waiting for a reaction. She got none. The older woman shrugged and kept talking.

"You'll be happy to know that Suki's pregnant. Your brother will be a father by autumn."

This made a difference to Katara. She wondered what the wedding had been like, if Suki had been nervous, if Sokka's palm had been sweaty, if they lived in their own house now. And the baby. She wouldn't be there to see her first niece or nephew born. She wouldn't be there to provide support for the couple, wouldn't be there to join in the joy and happiness that came with every birth on Kyoshi Island.

Instead, she'd be here, among the enemy.

Lori straightened up again, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your turn. The Mistress wants to know what you've learned so far."

Katara shook her head. This was what she'd been dreading, in a way. "I have nothing to report."

"Nothing?" Lori raised one eyebrow. "You've been here for a month and you know nothing yet?"

"I've been here training my butt off as a recruit in order to merit an initiation into the Elite force, which happened, might I add, just this morning?" Katara couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice. It bothered her a bit that the Mistress expected so much of her in such a short time. It wasn't like she could just snap her fingers and immediately be included in on the war councils and classified information that the Emperor and his closest advisors discussed. Working her way into their confidence would be hard, and would take awhile. She had to get them to _trust_ her. Something decidedly difficult to do when she didn't trust them back.

Lori seemed to appraise her again, as if forming an opinion on whether or not Mistress had made a mistake in choosing to send Katara as the assassin.

_You have no right to judge me_. But Katara held it in and stared back.

A strange sort of grin came over the older woman's face and she looked satisfied. Flicking a piece of lint casually from her civilian-type shirt, Lori began to speak again. "You've probably already heard about all our troop movements near Empire borders."

Katara nodded her head, remembering Ensei's talk this morning about "fidgety rebs".

"The Mistress is taking a big chance here, Katara." Now there was no attitude or sarcasm in Lori's voice. She was all truth, clear and painful. "A chance that not everyone in Kyoshi agrees with. She wants to attack Empire outposts and go on the offensive. You know what we've been doing for the past hundred years, Katara. We've been defending our land and our island and our people. But no matter how good our defense is, one day the Fire Empire _will_ get tired of us and they _will _send an army to get rid of Kyoshi once and for all. It's not _if _they'll attack anymore, but _when._ The Mistress wants to take the initiative and strike before they can get us. All that stuff you're hearing about, all the gossip about rebels attacking Fire Empire strongholds is true. The Mistress is starting it _now_. Changes are happening."

"But—" Katara's mind raced. "but we don't have enough warriors to hold and invasion of that size for long. They'll defeat us in the end. We don't have enough manpower."

Lori shook her head. "That's where you come in. We're all waiting for you, Katara. The entire tribe is waiting for you to complete your mission. To kill the Emperor. His death will be the catalyst, the event that will set everything into motion. While the government is distracted with his death, the military will be disorganized, everybody's morale will be weak. Then we'll strike, and deal a blow they won't be able to recover from." Lori's eyes were bright, and Katara could clearly see the excitement in her quick hand motions, her emphatic movement. Lori was one who _was_ in support of the Mistress's plan.

Katara was still reeling from this information. She knew her mission had been undoubtedly important. But she hadn't known it would be the burning match that would light the fires of a full-blown war. _The Mistress didn't tell me of this._

"We're depending on you," Lori said. "We need definite information on Empire army movement, supply schedules, locations of important people, _anything _that'll help us defeat them. Then, the Mistress will send you a signal and you will do your duty."

"What signal?"

"She says you'll know it when the time comes." Lori shrugged.

Katara stood still. Everything was being thrown at an impossible speed into her face and she didn't know if she would be strong enough to hold it all up. Get into the Elite force of the Fire army? Check. Assassinate an Emperor? No problem. Start a war? Already done.

She distantly remembered that age-old question everyone asked you when you were a child. _What do you want to be when you grow up_?

Oh, nothing big. A spy, or an assassin, or a warmonger. Maybe even all three. A Buy One, Get Two Free kind of deal.

Katara couldn't even remember what she'd wanted to be originally. What had her dreams been? Her hopes? She'd probably answered excitedly, _a warrior!_ Because that's what Sokka and Suki had wanted to be, and whatever they wanted, she definitely wanted as well. A home, a family, a place where she belonged.

"My ship to Menthat leaves in an hour," Lori said, bringing Katara back to earth.

_That's right_, Katara thought. _Now you get to go home and relax in Kyoshi until your next mission. You get to go back and see your family and laugh with your friends and live your own life. Me? I'm stuck here, where I have to pretend to be the enemy twenty-four seven. Where I have to lie and lie and lie to carve a place for myself.  
_

_You'll get to be there when Suki gives birth to my nephew or niece. You'll get to hold my brother's child, and baby-sit them, and love them. If I ever go back, that child will look at me like I am a stranger. And I will be. I will be a stranger to all of you._

"You don't want to miss your ship," said Katara.

Lori looked at her with some kind of emotion. Maybe pity? Katara didn't want pity.

"Is there any sort of message you want me to deliver to your brother? Suki? The Mistress?"

"No message." What could she possibly say?

Lori's face sharpened for a moment, as if in disapproval. You're not going to congratulate your brother? You're not going to say good luck to Suki? You're not going to say you miss any of them? But the look disappeared, she nodded, and then she was gone.

Katara was left staring blankly through the darkness of the alleyway before she too trudged out and began to walk back towards the city gate, back to the army complex. Nobody bothered her on her way back; the uniform declared her station and her abilities.

There was much to think about.

* * *

  
"You okay?" Hiro looked concerned as Katara set her tray down next to his in the dining hall.

She was so tired. So tired of lying to the people who actually did care about her well-being. The words _I'm fine_ were on the tip of her tongue before, in a fit of spite, she drew them back and instead said, "My aunt told me my grandfather died a week ago."

"That's too bad," said Qin, mouth full.

"Were you close to him?" Faozu asked before gulping down a cup of water.

"I'm sorry," said Ensei, and then "Pass the soup."

Curiously, Katara liked the way they didn't fawn over her and treat her like a delicate object just because a supposed family member had died. This was the way soldiers dealt with death. Cleanly, before moving onto the next pressing topic. She found that she preferred it over faked sympathy.

"No, I didn't know him that well," Katara said finally.

"I guess you'll be fine then," said Qin. "Here's the soup, lieutenant."

"And my brother's wife is pregnant," she mused out loud.

"Congratulations."

"That's nice."

"I hate kids."

"I think they're cute."

"That's because you're a softie at heart, Faozu."

Faozu sighed before looking down at his plate. "I must be."

"Do you want a family?" asked Katara.

Qin whistled and said, grinning, "What is this, Kat, a marriage proposal?"

Katara ignored him.

"Eh," Faozu shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "Don't know what'd I do to support one, other than stay a soldier. And a father away at war more than half the time isn't a great plan."

Hiro guffawed. "More like no woman would ever want you in the first place, Faozu."

Faozu grinned back, a sly look on his face. "From what I hear about your father, your mother would be happy to take me on."

Low whistles and "Are you just gonna take that, Hiro?" rose from the occupants of the table, but Hiro just laughed and said, "Good one, good one."

But as the laughter died down, and people started other conversations, Katara caught the look on Faozu's face. It was one of a well-concealed, sorrowful regret.

She chose to say nothing. Some matters weren't to be discussed in public, especially not around a group of coarse, unruly soldiers.

* * *

It was past midnight, and Katara was outside again, wandering the complex under the moonlight. Except tonight, there was no Juiko to visit in the jailhouse. The dark solitude of the night was calming and refreshing after a day of loud soldiers and louder conversations.

She suspected that Hiro knew she was out here, for he had stirred when she'd jumped lightly off her top bunk onto the floor. Qin and Faozu had been snoring away, dead to the world. That was another disadvantage about sleeping in a room with three men.

And now she was inside the armory, slipping one knife out of its case and a whetstone from communal box. A low lamp burned in the corner. She sat down on one of the wooden benches inside and began to sharpen it, running the smooth stone against the edges of the metal. It was soothing, the _rasp rasp rasp _of rock against knife, the rhythmic sound almost like a lullaby.

Until the footsteps outside alerted her to another's presence. She stopped sharpening the blade, ears straining for anymore telltale sounds.

The door to the armory opened and a figure stood in the shadows, lamplight flickering over the scarred face.

"Oh. You." Katara said dumbly. Then she regretted it. Would he take it as a form of insubordination? It wasn't exactly the best way to greet your monarch and commander.

But all he said was, "People might get suspicious if you're running around so late at night."

"People might get suspicious if the Emperor is running around so late at night." Was he going to execute her for talking back now? She was being unreasonable rude, but she couldn't seem to stop.

"I'm not—I'm not technically Emperor yet."

She knew the surprise showed on her face, but she said "You don't have to keep standing. You can sit down, you know." And pointed to the bench next to her with the hand gripping the whetstone.

For a horrible moment as he stood there, she thought he wasn't going to come closer. But then he did sit down, less than five feet away from her, with a sigh and a rustle of clothes and _chink_ of armor.

The knife in her right hand seemed to grow warm in her palm.

_Not yet_.

Even though the setting was perfect and he had his guard down and they were alone and he was oh so unsuspecting.

She set the whetstone back on the edge of the blade and began to sharpen it again.

"What do you mean you're technically not Emperor yet?"

He was leaning forward, head slightly bowed, forearms resting on his thighs. It was so very different from his usual straight-backed, broad-shouldered, upright position when he saw him attending various businesses during the day. Katara realized belatedly that ruling a country was not an easy job.

"My Uncle is Regent because I do not ascend the throne until I am twenty years old." His voice was slightly muffled, almost hidden beneath the rough sounds of her whetstone.

"I didn't know there was a minimum age," she said, holding the blade up to the dim light. So the soon-to-be Emperor did have a relative. The Mistress had not told her of this. "Your uncle… he doesn't want to be Emperor? Can't he fight you for the position?"

He laughed softly, and she did not understand what was so funny. "He doesn't want it. But even if he did, there'd be trouble."

"Why?"

"Because Iroh is old and it would be—how do I say this tastefully—very hard for him to produce an heir to the throne."

"Oh."

And for awhile, the room was silent except for her continued scraping of earth on metal.

Katara supposed she should be shocked to be having a private conversation with the Emperor of the Fire Empire. She should be nervous, palms sweaty, eyes blinking rapidly. This certainly wasn't proper. He wasn't supposed to be telling her things, and she wasn't supposed to be listening like a friend.

That was when the insane fear gripped her. She stood up suddenly, whetstone dropping out of one hand onto the floor until it rolled beneath a rack of spears. She could feel his surprised amber eyes looking up at her. _What do you see when you look at me?_

He couldn't confide in her. She couldn't listen to him. They could not become friends. Because if they did, she would begin to _care_.

If you sympathize with the enemy, you've lost the battle before the fight has even begun.

_He is not human. He does not have a family or a life. He does not feel. He does not think. He does not love.  
_

_He is merely the enemy_.

She turned to leave without a backwards glance. Keep talking to him long enough, and she would never be able to complete her mission.

* * *

Two pressing questions from **poogiepie** that I forgot to answer last time:

**1) so... no avatar, huh? **Do you really want to know? If I were a reader, I wouldn't, because frankly, it would destroy the suspense. Do you prefer to know about what's going to happen before I've actually written it? Maybe that would ruin things for you. Just a thought.  
**2) is this gonna be kinda like disney's mulan (insert 'find out she's a kyoshi warrior' instead of 'find out she's a girl')?** See above answer.

A/N: This was a filler chapter more than anything. Chapter 7, stuff starts happening. I really am looking forward to writing action/intrigue/suspense. I don't know why. This is probably one reason I prefer LTE over THATP by now. I don't like stories that are pure romance. Romance as a subplot is okay, as long as there is plenty of other meaningful stuff going on. More on this at the LJ (link is in my profile, "homepage")


	7. We Are Born Innocent

**Chapter 7: We Are Born Innocent**

Katara sighed, shifting her bottom around on the hard leather saddle. She had never thought it possible for her thighs to ache this badly. The horse beneath her nickered softly in annoyance at her frequent movements.

"It's not like I'm riding you of my own choice," she hissed. "It was either this or walking all the way to the Romu Province." Romu Province was located on the northeastern shore of the Fire Nation, so walking would have been quite a slow process. It was also the location of the latest rebel raid. News was, those Kyoshians had set up a fort there as well. Well, they couldn't very well let the rebels just _stay_ there, could they? Plus the fact that a famous rebel leader, the warrior Yuhao, was rumored to be the one leading the raids in Romu. He was the proverbial thorn in the Fire Empire's side, and was one of the most wanted rebels, dead or alive.

Katara knew Warrior Yuhao. He'd been her spear instructor on Kyoshi Island. He had three children, the oldest of which was named Kian. She and Sokka and Suki had often played with Yuhao's children in the summer.

That was a bit of information she'd decided to keep to herself.

"Sore?" Hiro asked, grinning slyly as he smoothly drew his own mount up next to hers. "It gets better after the first few days."

Katara just grimaced. "I hope you're right."

"Say," said Qin on her other side. "If you were raised on a farm, you should be familiar with horses, right?"

Was Qin suspicious? Or was it just an innocent question? His tone seemed to suggest that he just wanted to make conversation.

So she would make conversation. "Yeah, but the ones we had were big plowing animals, not for pleasure riding. We keep a small farm in Yeriv, mostly to escape the attention of the raiders."

Everybody seemed to accept this as a perfectly reasonable answer, and the six of them rode in companionable silence for the next few minutes.

Six, because a surprise had joined Patrol One.

The Emperor Zuko.

His tall, straight form was riding a regal black horse at the front of their mini-procession alongside Lt. Ensei. Katara's forehead creased in a slight frown as she thought about the implications of his presence here. It meant that this mission was more important than the lieutenant had let on. Ride to Romu Province, kill some rebels, go home. There had to be something else going on here, if the Emperor himself was focusing his personal attention on this mission.

When she asked why the Emperor was here, Qin merely shrugged. "He's come with us before."

Katara kept staring blankly. "Why?"

"Him and the lieutenant are good friends. And I imagine ruling an Empire gets boring after awhile." Qin grinned. "Hey, if you're really so curious, just ask him. He ain't gonna bite."

_Yeah right_. But she just shook her head exasperatedly. Either Qin really didn't know anything, or he was just fooling around because he didn't want to tell her the real reason. And as if she would just walk up to the Emperor of the world and ask him what he was doing here when he had every right to do anything he wanted.

_But isn't that the way you spoke to him last night?_

Katara shook it off. That had been foolish action on her part, having an impromptu rendezvous with the Emperor Zuko in the middle of the night. So far this morning, he hadn't even acknowledged her. In return, she treated him with the same impersonal courtesy as any subject would accord to their ruler. If he wasn't going to be open about their little tête-à-têtes, well, she wasn't keen on letting the whole word know either. She shifted uneasily. People would definitely take it the wrong way if they learned about it. _No more heart-to-hearts with the Emperor, got it?_

"I heard he wants the Warrior Yuhao interrogated," Faozu said, a peaceful expression over his blunt features.

"So why not just get Lt. Ensei or somebody else to do it?"

Faozu shrugged. "He wants to speak to the rebel leader personally. Apparently, Yuhao is some bigwig in the rebel government—"

_He is all but the Mistress's right-hand man,_ thought Katara silently.

"—and it'll be much too dangerous to cart him back to Kotzut. Too many chances for escape. Most likely we'll kill him as soon as the Emp's done with him."

Katara averted her eyes and distracted herself by combing her horse's coarse mane through her fingers. Torture. It would definitely be needed. Warrior Yuhao was infinitely loyal to Kyoshi. But how much pain would the battle-hardened veteran be able to take before opening his mouth? Would he choose death over betrayal?

It wasn't a question she liked to think about, for it struck much too close to her own delicate situation.

She wondered if she would be expected to kill on this mission. Mouth set in a grim line, she decided she'd do what was required of her to finish her mission, both this one and her secret one.

* * *

When Ensei finally called a halt to the grueling ride for the night, Katara sighed in relief and dismounted with a bit of difficulty. She almost fell face first onto the forest floor as her legs, seemingly locked in a bowed position from the day-long ride, refused to acknowledge her commands. Ignoring the sniggering from Qin, she reached up to unpack her supplies which included her sleeping bag, extra set of clothes, field rations, back-up weapons, and other essentials. 

At the side of the small clearing, Faozu and Hiro were already setting up the tent, a simple canvas structure that could sleep five; six if everyone squeezed. But they wouldn't have to do that, as the Fire Lord had brought his own single-man tent. Evidently, as Qin said, he'd done this before. For some reason, Katara found it hard to imagine. The Fire Lord must be used to a life of luxury in the palace. Why would he voluntarily choose to come out and rough it in the wilderness with a bunch of soldiers?

Whatever. She'd do her job and he just better make sure he didn't get in her way.

_He is the job, Katara_.

"We'll be at the Fort in Romu Province round noon tomorrow if we make an early start. So eat, sleep, and piss while you can." Ensei announced, before striding off into the forest to follow his own instructions.

Katara sat by the small pile of sticks that Hiro was gathering to make a fire, both of them trying to figure out how to light it without the wind blowing out the match every time. Just when they were getting especially frustrated, a thin stream of flame shot in from the side, effectively lighting the small campfire into a cheery bundle of warmth. Katara and Hiro had both leapt back at the surprise, but Hiro looked up at the impenetrable Emperor.

"Thank you, sir," said Hiro. Katara mumbled something along those lines.

Qin grinned as he came to join them, stretching so something cracked in his lower back. "Quite handy to have a Fire bender around on a mission, your Highness."

The Emperor just nodded and proceeded to eat his own dinner while everyone else unwrapped their food.

Later that night, once the fire was put out, everyone crawled into their sleeping bags to dream until dawn arrived. Katara lay there on her back, sandwiched between a snoring Faozu on one side and a shifting Hiro on the other. She was already used to all of their sleeping habits, except for the lieutenant, who didn't bunk with them back at the barracks. Faozu would snore a quiet, rhythmic inhale-exhale all through the night until morning. Qin occasionally barked out random phrases in his sleep. Hiro shifted around in the first few minutes until he found what he called his "comfortable position" and then he was dead to the world until light.

Perhaps the lieutenant was like her. Eyes open, staring blankly above, awake and thinking, thinking, thinking, wishing sleep would take over but knowing that it wouldn't come for a long while yet. _I hope I don't have insomnia_.

Eventually she did drop off, lulled by the almost-music of Faozu's breathing next to her ear.

* * *

Katara couldn't help coughing, almost bending over double as the smoke rose around her in a gray mass of confusion. The fire Emperor Zuko had set on the floor level of the rebel-controlled Fort had quickly risen, devouring everything in their path.

"Let's move, move, move, soldiers!" yelled Lt. Ensei, a flash of yellow hair through the haze before her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Hiro asked, all of a sudden beside her.

"Yeah—yeah I'm fine. Let's go." She stood up again, blinking away smoke-induced tears.

Hiro turned and dashed into the gray haze, Katara, crouched in a low position, followed after him, keeping his form in her sight.

A shout from before her, and then the sickening thud of a body hitting the floor. Peering through her irritated eyes, Katara caught a glimpse of Qin flicking bright red blood of his sword efficiently, and then stepping over the green-clad, white-faced warrior at his feet. Averting her eyes, she stepped over the body when it became her turn and followed her patrol further into the darkness of the burning fort.

_Don't be sick, don't be sick._ Thankfully the smoke covered up the coppery smell of blood.

That morning they'd woken up and been ushered by a harried Lt. Ensei onto their horses before breaking for Romu Province at a full-out gallop. When they'd arrived, they found that the rebels were already alerted to their arrival. Emperor Zuko had set the place ablaze to flush them out.

"Kill anybody who tries to kill you," had been Ensei's instructions. "But leave the leader, the Warrior Yuhao alive. The Emp needs information."

Hurrying forward behind Hiro and Qin, Katara knew now that they were looking for her old spear-teacher.

Then Faozu grabbed her arm, spinning her around and shouting to their teammates before them, he pointed out a window they'd just passed. "Out there! Lt. Ensei, look outside! The rebels are escaping into the forest!"

Immediately the lieutenant was by their side, face a mask of controlled tension, yellow eyes glaring at the window down onto the forest floor. "Damn! The fucking cowards."

With a simple hand motion, he gestured for the patrol to follow him and they were running, back over the dead Kyoshi warrior and down the crumbling stairs until they were outside, finally free of that throat-choking smoke. In less than a second they were off, charging into the forest, following the flashing green uniforms of the rebels before them.

"We can't lose them!" Lt. Ensei was in front, and faster than her eye could follow, his hand grabbed silver and then a knife was embedded in green cloth. One down, how many more to go?

Then, through the bushes and fallen leaves of the forest, she caught a glimpse of aged gray eyes in a face of white. The Warrior Yuhao, concealed behind the brush, gave her a split-second look of recognition before he disappeared among the foliage. Panting, Katara knew he would not give her position away. The Mistress had told all her top advisors about Katara's mission and why she was masquerading as an Elite Fire Empire soldier.

The look he'd given her was obvious. _Don't tell them you saw me_.

She wasn't going to tell the Emperor anything.

"Split up! Qin, Hiro—with Zuko and me. Katara, Faozu—you're in the trees with bows now. Shoot anything green that moves."

As she was scrambling up the nearest tree trunk, Faozu imitating her not three trees away, the Emperor shouted up at them, "Shoot to wound, not kill! I need the leader!"

Katara gave him a curt nod before heaving herself up into the branches of the oak. With trembling fingers, she unslung her bow from around her shoulders and notched an arrow, barely able to point straight. The Emperor, Ensei, Hiro, and Qin had disappeared after the Kyoshi Warriors, probably to chase them back here so Katara and Faozu could have a clearer shot. An ambush.

The adrenaline pounded through her body, blood rushing to her ears as she sat in wait, wondering how everything had happened so fast to bring her to this point in time. Would she be able to let go of the arrow when the time came? Would she be able to consciously kill another human being? Qin had done it earlier with no hesitation, far more concerned with cleaning his sword of blood than the dead enemy at his feet.

_Death is the life of a soldier, Katara. Do you think it would have been any different if you'd been a Warrior? _

A sudden rustle of leaves snapped her heat to the side to stare intently at a clump of bushes on the ground. A flash of white—she raised her bow with shaking arms—but another arrow, not her own, whistled through the air and slammed into the enemy, a pained grunt coming from the ground. It must not have hit any vital organs because the green-clad Warrior was up and running, an arrow sticking out from one arm, away from the two Elite archers and into a denser part of the forest.

She'd caught two desperate gray eyes before he'd left.

She could hear Faozu cursing as he tried to get down from his tree, intent on chasing the escaping quarry.

"Faozu!" she waved her hands wildly at the other soldier. "Faozu, you stay, I'll go get him! He's coming my way!"

Faozu nodded quickly before returning to his post.

Leaping from the tree, Katara left her bow behind as she hit the ground at a run, intent on catching Yuhao before any of the other found them.

_What the hell do you think you're going to do? Save his life? Don't be crazy, Katara._

There! Up ahead came the sounds of harsh breathing. The leaves she darted past were stained with sticky red blood, and as she burst from the underbrush, he turned, startled gray eyes relaxing as he recognized her.

"I didn't—I wasn't the one who shot you—" she panted, coming to a stop next to him.

"I know, Katara, I know." He slumped to the ground, clutching his left arm to his side. "I'm getting slow—age is catching up with me."

She examined him, the famous Warrior Yuhao of the rebels, leader of many successful offensive raids. His hair was graying at the roots, wrinkles lined a face that was much too old to be tramping around in a forest, risking his neck for an already doomed cause. What had the Mistress been thinking, sending him out on such a dangerous mission in Fire Nation territory, no less?

She bent to help him up. "Come on—we don't have much time to get you out of here—"

"Katara." His voice was soft but commanding. She refused to meet his eyes as she tried to get him to stand up. "Katara. What do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to save your life!" It came out harsher than she'd meant it to.

He didn't seem to take offense at all. There was a sort of regret, a resignation and a satisfaction in his eyes. "It's okay, Katara. It's my time."

"You have a simple arm injury! The least experienced doctor could fix that!"

"You know what I mean."

She slowly let go of his shoulder and sank to the ground, trying to come to terms with what he was saying. The forest was full of members of her own Elite patrol, intent on capturing this man and torturing him for information. If they caught him, the only escape for him would be death, and that wouldn't come until long, long after they'd gotten what they wanted from him.

"I won't betray Kyoshi, Katara." His voice was gentle, ready.

She just shook her head. "There's another way—there's got to be—"

He placed one bloody hand over her own. "Would you submit me to pain and torture until secrets are forced from my lips? It might be days before I am finally granted the relief of death."

"I can help you—"

"Stop it." Now his voice was more urgent, almost pleading. "Listen to me. Your fellow soldier knows you came after me. What'll they think when they find out I escaped? You'll be under suspicion, and your mission will be shot to hell. Don't jeopardize the lives of thousands because you think you can do something about me. Do you understand? Do you understand me, Katara?"

She nodded.

"I'd rather die now, here, by the hand of one of my own, than at the hands of those bastards." He slipped a knife, one of Kyoshi make, from his belt and wrapped her fingers around it.

Katara resisted, shaking her head vehemently. "Don't make me do it—Don't make me do it—"

Now he was hissing. "You must learn, Katara! Did the Mistress make a mistake in choosing you for this? If you can't do it to me—if you can't do it when I'm _begging _you to do it—how are you going to kill _him_ when the time comes?" His bloodless knuckles shook her hand, the one tightly gripping the knife.

_I don't want to. Don't make me, please._

All of a sudden, both of their hands jerked up to the crashing sounds of people running through the forest. Katara's eyes widened, recognizing the angry voice of Ensei and the smell of smoke that meant the Fire Emperor was trying to burn out the rebels.

Yuhao's eyes were desperate and half-made now. "Do it!"

Her hand trembled, white as bone. White as a warrior's face-paint.

"—there's somebody over here!—"

Those gray eyes of his were begging, _hating_ her for hesitating. "_Do it!_"

Both his hands shot up, gripped her own hand that held the knife, and plunged it into his heart.

His body jerked, blood foaming at his mouth. The gray eyes dimmed as he choked out, "My children—tell—"

Yuhao died.

Katara's hands fell from the knife to her side. There was no blood staining her palm or fingers. Yuhao's stab had been clean; efficient. There was no evidence to condemn her.

Then the clearing was filled with people; Ensei, the Emperor, Hiro, Qin. In a few minutes, Faozu joined them, staring at the body on the ground.

"This is the Warrior Yuhao?" asked Hiro.

"This _was_ the Warrior Yuhao," spat the Emperor almost contemptuously. He whirled around to face Katara, still kneeling on the ground. "What happened here, soldier?"

Her blank eyes fixated on the dead boy of a great warrior before her. She held up one hand in a helpless gesture. "He was dead by the time I got here. Suicide; he didn't want to be caught and tortured for information. He killed himself." She pointed at the knife in his chest. She was obtusely proud of herself. Her voice was calm and with just the right amount of regret and exasperation in it. A perfect Elite's voice, angry at having just lost a prize. It revealed nothing about her inner thoughts.

The Emperor cursed. "Damn! I needed him."

_Not more than Kyoshi did_, she thought silently. _Not more than Kyoshi needs me now._

* * *

The ride back from the Fort at Romu Province didn't take long. They decided to camp at the same place they had last night, since it was a good spot with a clear stream a short walk away. 

The jolting movements of the horse under her no longer seemed unusual to Katara. During the entire ride she thought about nothing but the smooth way the knife gripped between both her hands and Yuhao's had slipped into his chest so easily. How the light in his eyes had died so quickly. How the words he'd tried to speak had never made it to anything comprehensible.

_Tell his children what? _That he loved them and wanted them to know it? That there was a secret stash of gold buried beneath their house? Whatever it was, if she survived this and made it back to Kyoshi, she would make sure to tell Yuhao's wife and children that he had died an honorable death defending Kyoshi's secrets. And that she had been there with him in his last moments; he had not died alone.

_What does it matter if he died alone or in company? He's dead_.

Camp that night was quiet and subdued, owing mostly to the Emperor's bad mood. After she ate, Katara softly informed her patrol that she was going for a quick wash and clean-up in the nearby stream.

"Don't get lost," said Hiro absentmindedly as she gathered soap and other essentials. He knew she wasn't stupid enough to lose her way when the stream was less than a five-minute walk from the campsite.

"I won't."

It was a clear night with the moon almost entirely full. Plenty of light. The stream was shallow and clear enough so that she could still see to the bottom of it. Teeth chattering a bit, she stripped until she was in her under things, piling her clothes on the rocks by the water. She trusted the men enough not to be peeping toms (weren't they mature enough to be beyond that by now?) but people got lost on the way to the bathroom, or a wild animal might jump out at her. At least with her underwear on she had some semblance of modesty in the possible face of humiliation, or even danger.

The cool water felt good against her sweat- and smoke-stained skin. She carefully untied her hair and let it drift in the water. Katara didn't consider herself a hygiene freak but she definitely liked feeling clean.

As she soaked in the stream, she couldn't help but feel that the Emperor's ugly mood was semi-directed at her. Katara assumed that he partially blamed her for the death of Yuhao, who could have been a great source of information. In truth, she supposed it was her fault. But in front of the Fire Emperor and the Elite soldiers, she would maintain the lie that he had killed himself.

And he had. In the end, Yuhao had committed suicide, because she hadn't been able to deliver the blow that would end his life. She hadn't been able to do it, even to protect the people of Kyoshi Island. Even to save Yuhao from definite torture at the hands of his would-be captors. She'd been an utter coward. His words rang in her ears:

"_If you can't do it to me—if you can't do it when I'm _begging_ you to do it—how are you going to kill _him_ when the time comes?"_

Her hands were stained blood-red.

Gasping, she lifted them in a panic from under the water, staring intently at her palms in the light of the moon. Tanned, almost nut-brown skin. No red. An illusion. It was all just an illusion.

How was she going to kill Emperor Zuko when the time came? Yuhao had forced her hands on the knife and into his body. She had not done it by choice; was there a difference? She'd never killed anybody in her life before. And now her first assassination target would be the Emperor of Practically The Entire World. Shouldn't she have at least… _practiced_? Killing Emperor Zuko was most definitely a big deal. What if she screwed up? What if she just couldn't do it?

_No what-ifs. You'll do it, and you'll do it right, because otherwise five thousand Kyoshi citizens will die for your cowardice_.

"Hey—are you done yet?"

She whirled around in an automatically defensive position before remembering her current state of undress. Eyes straining to see in the dim light, she scrabbled for her black shirt, holding it up to cover her front while her bottom half stayed underwater.

"_Shit_!" she cursed. Who the hell was that?

"Oh—I'm sorry—I didn't realize, oh fuck—" He whirled around so his back faced her, still talking. "I'm so sorry."

Katara was spitting mad as she sloshed through the water, intent on reaching her clothes as soon as possible. How could she have been fool enough to trust them? No matter how professional they were as a team, how soldierly they acted around each other, they were still _men_, and as such, the would be provoked to do insensitive and utterly perverted things. She didn't give a damn which one of them it was—

"Don't give me that bullshit about not knowing what I was doing here!" she raged at his back, stumbling into her pants. "I was in the water—I told you all where I was going and what I was doing—you're obviously lying if you say that you _didn't realize_ and _accidentally_ stumbled upon my private bath." She cursed again as she almost tripped over a rock trying to get one leg inside the right hole. "Once the Emperor hears about this—this _indecency_ you will be thrown out of the Elites so fast you won't _realize_—"

He turned, judging she was dressed, and she saw the glint of moonlight on the scarred side of his face.

She was shocked speechless for a moment before the fact that it was _Emperor Zuko_ who had been spying on her registered.

Then she just got even more pissed off.

"You! You—you—" Katara sputtered.

"Yes? Me?" He replied in an almost amused tone.

His sarcastic little remark completely blew her fuse. She didn't care if he was the Fire Empire. Nobody got away with this kind of thing, at least not with Katara. "_You_ think that just because you're the Emperor you have any right to just _intrude_ on my privacy? That you're so all-powerful that you can gape all you want and not get in trouble for it?" She drew in a deep breath, getting ready to let loose. "Let me tell you—just because you're royalty doesn't entitle you to a free peep-show at every girl who walks across your path—"

"Hey!" Emperor Zuko snapped back, breaking off her tirade. "I wasn't here for a peep show—"

"That's just bullshit all over again, you and I both know it—"

"I came here to check on you! To make sure you hadn't been eaten by some wild animal or taken prisoner by an escaped rebel," he interrupted her, a scowl on his face.

Katara stopped, fists unclenching in surprise. Then she realized that it may well have been a lie he concocted in order to indulge in his perverted little fantasies. "Like I believe that! I know what you're like! I have a brother your age—I know how immature you boys can be! I know—"

"What? What do you know about me that I don't already know?" he said, and it wasn't the indignant, equal-argument voice he'd used earlier. It was a cool, smooth, politician's voice. A ruler's authoritative tone. It then occurred to her that she had just called her sovereign and commander _immature_ and _you boys_, or, in essence, a little child.

It would definitely be classified under Disrespect and Insubordination of the First Degree.

She shut up.

They glared at each other under the moonlight. It was hard to glare with any sort of intensity while she was shivering, hair still wet and unbound, dripping water everywhere onto her clothes which were skewed and most likely on backwards. He achieved the intense glare much better, having the advantage of height and being properly dressed and oh-so-warm.

Knowing that there was absolutely no justice in the world, Katara finally averted her eyes and said, "I'm sorry if I offended, sir." _No justice at all!_

The minute the word _sir_ fell from her lips, he seemed to stiffen and replaced the glare with a cold, commanding look. As if he'd been reminded of their positions, of the fact that she was a lesser soldier with no rank and he was the Emperor of the Fire Empire. Immediately, everything was put in perspective and rebounded to the way things were _supposed _to be.

Emperor Zuko nodded. Then he seemed to think of something. "I apologize as well for… interrupting you." He forced it through like he had a hard time saying it.

_You call that interrupting?_ But what choice did she have but to accept his apology? And obviously he considered it a big leap from his prideful pedestal to apologize to a lowly commoner like her. She gritted her teeth and nodded back. What else could she do?

"We should probably head back. The others will be wondering what happened." Saying this, the Emperor Zuko turned and walked back through the trees, leaving her dripping on the bank of the stream. She stood there, still gaping at how everything had happened so fast, when he finally realized she wasn't following.

"Come on. We don't have all night."

Finally shaking herself from her stupor, she gathered her items and ran to catch up with him.

When they reached the campfire, their fellow soldiers looked up at them with a bit of surprise and relief.

"What took you so long?" asked Hiro.

"We had a little—discussion," answered Katara, thin-lipped.

"Your shirt's on backwards, you know," grinned Hiro.

"Thanks," she snapped back before pulling her arms from the sleeves, rotating it around, and slipping her hands back through the right holes. "I was _interrupted_ and didn't have time to dress properly," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the Emperor discreetly moving to check his horse's equipment, turning his back to the soldiers around the campfire.

Ensei smiled his lazy, dangerous smile. "You were taking a long time, and we got worried. The Emp volunteered to check on you on his way to the bathroom. Guess you weren't done yet, huh?"

"No!" She stomped around the fire, shoving her stuff back into a saddle bag. "And I _can_ take care of myself, thank you very much!"

The lieutenant just kept on smiling while Qin sniggered. Katara noticed Faozu wasn't there. There was somebody moving around inside the tent. He must have felt like turning in already.

She sat down against the log next to Hiro, trying to shake off her bad mood. Bad enough the Emperor had caught her almost naked, but now the entire patrol knew about it too. _This all better be worth it_.

But Ensei had already moved on to other topics. "The rebels knew we were coming today," he said, uncannily serious.

"What do you mean?" asked Hiro as the Emperor sat down next to the lieutenant.

"I mean that place was absolutely deserted. They knew we were coming and skipped out, leaving a group behind to delay us from following them and finding out where they were headed to."

"You mean—you mean somebody _told_ them we were coming? Like a spy?" said Hiro.

"Yeah. A spy."

Katara told herself to breathe evenly.

"Well, who knew we were coming aside from our own selves?"

Ensei looked over at the Emperor, as if asking him silently to answer the question.

The Emperor Zuko stared into the fire. "I told my uncle, because he rules as Regent while I'm gone. I suppose several of the advisors and war leaders had to know as well. The usual group; Huang, Gen, Wunan, Shen, and Zhao."

The lieutenant barked out a short laugh. "Huang and Zhao? Those bastards? Aren't you afraid of leaving the country in their oh-so-capable hands while you're gone?"

The Emperor shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "My uncle can hold off the sharks for awhile. Zhao especially likes it when I come out on mission. Each time he hopes I die on the way and never come home, leaving the Empire without a suitable ruler."

"Well, wouldn't your uncle be able to rule if you actually die?" Hiro asked. Katara remembered herself asking the same question several nights ago.

"No," answered Ensei smoothly. "Iroh isn't exactly of child-making age." He nudged The Emperor in the ribs. "But I bet the old Dragon of the West could really get up and go if he needed to. For the sake of his country, I mean."

Emperor Zuko closed his eyes with a pained look on his face. "Stop. Don't even go there, Ensei."

Katara managed to keep from outwardly rolling her eyes. What she'd found out since she'd joined these Fire soldier was that all the jokes they told were usually double entendres, smart-ass comments referring to women, ability, size, or anything about sex. She supposed that since most of them weren't married and were just out of the teenage years, their minds would be pretty focused on one thing. She'd learned to ignore it, and laugh along if it _was_ funny. She'd learned things she hadn't even known were _possible_ since joining the Elites.

She tried to pull them all back on topic. "Then who would become Emperor if you died, sir?"

The Emperor grimaced. "Zhao. We're very, very distantly related on my father's side—so distant we probably don't even share a single drop of blood. But since I don't have siblings and my parents are dead and my uncle's too old, Zhao'd be the one."

"Would he try to kill you?" _Will he beat me to it?_

The Emperor and Ensei exchanged looks. "I don't think he's so desperate as to do such a thing," Emperor Zuko said slowly. "Or at least, not yet."

"I don't know," Ensei said softly. "Zhao is—he's a screwed up guy. Probably the most ambitious and power-hungry I've ever had the unfortunate chance to meet."

The talk went on to cover more topics, not a single one of which was about the day's events. Qin didn't talk about the rebel he'd killed; he did not boast of it or otherwise. Lieutenant Ensei said nothing about the man he'd killed with his throwing knife. Faozu didn't say anything about how he'd shot Yuhao from his position in the trees. The Emperor did not complain about the death of a valuable source of information.

Apparently each man would dealt with his own ghosts in his own way and in his own time. Were they so used to killing that it no longer mattered? Did they see the faces of the enemies they'd killed in their dreams? How did they come to terms with it? Did they ever? Would _she_ ever?

* * *

School has started. Updates now might come slower. I will still write. Just not as often. Sorry.

Q & A:  
**Does everyone look like the original characters? – zuko'sbabygirl**  
Yes. Physically they all look the same.

**Is Zuko II the son of Prince Zuko from the show? But if this story takes place 100 years after HATP or when the Fire Nation became the Fire Empire then how would Zuko's and Katara's son be under the age of 20? -JunkFood**  
I specifically said in the epilogue of THATP that this story takes place 100 years and THREE OR FOUR GENERATIONS after the ending of THATP. Meaning that this Zuko II is _not_ K/Z's son, more like their great-great-great-great grandson. The people born between the two of them (well they are essentially the same person) were different, and they don't really matter.

**Becasue if she had blue eyes, brown hair and tan skin, wouldn't the firebenders be able to recognize her as a waterbender? –crazyaboutavatar**  
Hm. I'm not positive what color eyes she has in the show – I am assuming blue, but I've heard blue-gray (someone check that for me). I think it's a possibility in the Avatar world for mixing of blood to occur. Katara could chalk it up to having some Water tribe relative far, far back before the extermination of Water benders happened. I suppose we might have to overlook it. Good catch though, crazyaboutavatar.

**Is Hiro an incarnation of anyone? -also from crazyaboutavatar**  
If you can believe it, I originally meant for him to be a young Iroh! Notice, Hiro is an anagram of Iroh. But then I decided to keep the original Iroh in the story, so NO, Hiro is NOT an incarnation of anybody. He is pure OC.

**did u plan all this before you started writing or made it up as you went along? -****Simsim1705**  
An actually useful question. I applaud you. Well, I have an outline that I make for the story with major points that I've already thought up and want written. I place these in order according to when I want them to happen, and I make little notes in the margins reminding myself what needs to be included and what I must not forget. It ends up being all very, very messy, almost illegible. But it works. The real details of the story I don't write until I sit down in front of my computer. The outline just helps me organize major events. And some of the time, stuff doesn't go as I expected, but in a totally different direction. Does that help?

**if you don't mind, what grade are you in? you must be older than me (8th) your such a good writer -****Simsim1705**  
Thank you so much. XD Alright. I knew this was coming. Let's play the "How Old Is RedNovember Game". Guess, and I'll poll the results. Hey, this could be fun.

**Amber-** Thanks for the Writer's Block advice. XD

NEXT CHAPTER- One word: Adia.


	8. Belonging

**Chapter 8: Belonging  
**

After they returned to Kotzut from the failed mission—where Yuhao had died instead of being captured—Katara slept.

She slept and slept and occasionally woke up to eat, piss, and reassure her patrol that she really was okay.

"The first mission's always hard. You'll get used to it," said Faozu, eyes intent on the letter he was writing home.

"Are you sure you don't want to go into the city with us?" asked Qin. When she replied no, knowing they would only be there to drink, he shrugged and said, "Your loss."

Hiro looked at her sympathetically before leaving with Qin and said, "I'll bring something back for you if you want me to."

She just smiled, shook her head no, and burrowed back under her blanket.

It seemed that it was a tradition for Faozu to write to his family in the south after every mission he came back from. He said it was to tell them that he was still alive and alright, so they wouldn't worry overmuch. She wondered what he wrote. Did he tell them about the rebels he'd killed? Did he talk about death at all? Maybe he kept them ignorant of what he really did and just wrote about the weather.

Qin, she knew, dealt with missions by drinking. He'd come back to barracks the night after they'd returned from Romu Province dead drunk and supported by Hiro, who was semi-intoxicated himself. They always brought the sour smell of alcohol with them, which permeated the air in the bunks until Katara enveloped herself in the musty comfort of her pillow. There were no rules against Elite soldiers getting drunk on their off-time. As long as they were sober and sharp and ready during missions, commanders didn't care what soldiers did during free time.

Katara supposed she could see what Qin and Hiro found so attractive in drinking themselves into a stupor. The hazy indifference that came with intoxication and the deep, utterly dreamless sleep that followed must have been heaven after the blood and gore of death. To be able to drink away your cares and your nightmares in one bottle didn't sound so bad.

But it sounded too much like an addiction to her. Katara preferred to deal with her own demons without the aid of a drink. She might have horrible nightmares of bloody white faces or lie awake at night unable to get the image of a dead Emperor out of her mind, but at least she knew that these things were relevant worries, things that meant she was human and had emotions and morals and worries.

Still, sometimes she listened to the drunk mumblings of Qin, how he was so far away from the real world that nothing could get to him, and wished she could do the same.

Katara slept.

* * *

Patrol One went through a few more missions—most of them successful—that passed in a flurry of traveling and fighting and killing. After the first, the Emperor Zuko no long came with them. Lt. Ensei said he had some pressing business to attend to. 

However, soon enough, Kithara's fifth mission with the Elites rolled around, and this time, the Emperor came with them. She supposed it was a bit more important than other missions; they were rescuing a noble who had been captured on the far western edge of the Fire Nation. Perhaps this required the Emperor's personal attention.

So far, it was definitely the most taxing and strenuous mission she'd ever done. For one, they walked this time. No horses, for the area they were trekking through was mountainous and rocky, unsuited to horse hooves. In Katara's opinion, it was just as unsuited to human feet.

"Once we cross the Two Rivers, we'll be able to requisition some mounts from the nearest town," reassured Qin.

Katara just slogged on. It was a two-day march to the first river, the smaller one in the pair that snaked across the western edge of the Fire Nation, two dividing lines between the smoother planes of the far west and the higher mountainous ground of the east.

Biting back a curse as she slipped yet again on the slanted surface of the large boulder they were crossing, she knelt, digging her feet in and hanging onto a crag with one hand, managed to stop her descent.

"You okay?" asked Hiro.

She nodded, standing up and readjusting the straps on her enormous backpack. Without horses to carry supplies, Katara and the rest became their own packhorses. Her own included her sleeping bag, clothes, weapons, food, three water bottles, utensils, and parts of the tent that had been split up and divided among them to equalize loads. It wasn't extremely heavy, but after two days of solid marching, Katara thought the red marks the straps imprinted into her sore shoulders would never disappear.

Gritting her teeth, she moved on, following behind Lt. Ensei. She refused to be the first to complain.

They paused at noon to eat a quick lunch, sitting on rocks with the harsh sun beating down upon them. There were no trees or other foliage here to protect them from the noon heat. Getting ready to shoulder her pack one more, Katara swiped an arm across her sweating brow, grimacing at the heat. Her dark hair was plastered against her neck. Pulling at the tie with more force than necessary, she pulled her hair back tight, the heat making her irritable and susceptible to the least of annoyances. Her sticky clothes stuck to her body, and she pulled at her shirt, trying to encourage a bit more air circulation. For a moment she wished she could just take everything off until she was wearing only the essentials, like the way Hiro and Faozu had already stripped off their shirts, enjoying what little breeze there was. _Damn the lucky bastards_.

When they began to walk again, she was behind the Emperor. Belatedly, she noticed that he too had taken his top off. She hoped that the warm flush on her face was attributed only to the heat of the day. She decided to keep her eyes on the ground, placing her feet deliberately on the most solid path she could find. Anything to keep from looking at _him_. Not that she hadn't enjoyed the view, per se. In fact, she had to admit to herself that the Emperor was obviously in very good shape—

_Stop it!_ Her mind screeched to a halt. _Stop it. Think about—think about horse manure. Disgusting, stinky, unattractive horse shit._

It worked as long as she kept her eyes on the ground.

"It's so goddamn _hot_!" muttered Hiro from behind her.

The aforementioned heat and the frustration inside her at the fact that she was so easily susceptible to adolescent hormones made her snap back. "You have nothing to complain about!"

Hiro was a bit taken aback before he grinned slyly and stretched, pretending to enjoy a nonexistent breeze. "Sure is cool here without a thick, black, sweaty shirt on," he murmured just loud enough to reach her ears. "Feels great."

Katara knew he was just teasing her, so she grit her teeth and said nothing.

Hiro caught the look on her face and the bad vibes emanating from her body. "You know, Katara," he said, a glint in his eyes, "if it's really so bad, I'm sure you don't exactly need to keep _your_ shirt on either."

She turned and shoved him against a boulder before raising her head haughtily and marching past the surprised Emperor. Qin sniggered, and Hiro just laughed as he hoisted himself back upright again.

"Someone's in a bad mood," came Lt. Ensei's sarcastic comment from the front.

Katara ignored them all.

* * *

She could have fainted with relief when they finally arrived at the bank of the first river. An hour ago they had passed into a more wooded area, providing shade and relief from the harsh sunlight. The ice-blue water tumbled over boulders and logs, cooling the air around them and looking oh-so-inviting. What she hadn't taken into account was the width of the charging, roiling mass of water. 

"And this is the _smaller_ river?" asked Hiro with a look of disbelief on his face as they lined up on the bank. "How are we supposed to cross this thing?"

"I'm guessing the snow melt from the mountains did something to it," Lt. Ensei said, setting down his pack.

"Could we find a shallower place to ford across?" wondered Faozu. "It can't be all this bad the entire length of it."

Lt. Ensei shook his head. "From what I read before we left, this _is_ the narrowest part of the river."

Faozu looked dubious but said, "If you say so, lieutenant."

"I'll try it first," volunteered Qin. Lt. Ensei nodded, and Qin set down his pack before venturing down the slope and stepping into the river. She could see him shiver as soon as the water rose to his thighs. He slogged out as far as he could, fighting against the mighty pull of the current.

"It's cold as shit," Qin said, turning to face them, shivering in the water. He was barely even six feet from dry land. "And I can feel the pull at my legs. If we slip, it's the end. The current is really strong."

"Alright, come back," said the Lieutenant. "How the hell are we gonna do this?" he murmured, turning back to the rest of the patrol on the banks of the river.

"If we had some sort of guide rope we could hold onto while we crossed, the current wouldn't be as much of a problem," suggested Katara.

Faozu nodded as Qin joined them, soaked from the waist down. "Maybe we could tie a rope to one of the arrows and shoot it across into the trees?"

"Would that b-be strong enough t-t-to hold us all?" chattered Qin, rubbing his arms.

"I have the largest bow of all of us," said Faozu, thinking quickly. "So if I shoot with enough strength into a tree trunk, I could pass over by myself first, then tie the rope more securely around the trunk. Then you guys could come over."

"Alright then," said the Emperor. "Let's do that."

Katara watched worriedly as Faozu aimed, and shot the rope over the river to lodge with a resounding _thunk_ into the trunk of a tree across from them. The other end of the rope was tied to a stump on this side. Faozu, hands gripping the rope tightly, lowered himself into the river and began to forge his way across.

"Come on, come on," muttered Hiro. Faozu was halfway across, before all of a sudden he must have slipped on a rock underwater, and he went down before he got up, sputtering, hand still gripping the rope. They all breathed a sigh of collective relief when he finally reached the other side and began to tie the rope around a tree.

"Okay," said Lt. Ensei. "Faozu's all ready for us, so we'll go in this order. Myself first, Qin second, Katara third, Zuko fourth, and Hiro last. Got it?" They all nodded. Katara had to remind herself of why Ensei was so comfortable calling the Emperor by his first name and speaking like a superior. The two had grown up together as best friends. Of course the lieutenant couldn't call him Emperor all the time.

"Fucking cold," muttered Qin as he stepped through the water after the lieutenant. Then it was Katara's turn, with the Emperor and Hiro after her.

The minute she stepped into the river, Katara understood what Qin had meant about the current being so strong. It tugged at her legs, trying to pull her feet off the slippery rocks and downstream where her head could be bashed in on any number of boulders. She heard the Emperor's hissing intake of breath as he stepped in after her. Funny, they'd all just been complaining of the heat not ten minutes ago. What a drastic change in temperature. Katara wondered if the Emperor was even more uncomfortable than the rest of them in the river. He was a Fire bender—did he suffer any adverse effects while he was in such a powerful force of moving water?

"Keep your packs above the water!" shouted the lieutenant from the front. "If the water catches it, you're going down!"

Katara gritted her teeth and tried to feel with her sightless feet the rocks that were bigger and would give her more height above the water. They were almost in the middle. Her fingers gripped the rope tightly, insanely grateful for the security it provided. The icy blue water whipped around her upper thighs, then her hips, her waist, and then just barely lapped at her lower ribs. Ahead of her, she could see that the water didn't reach any higher than Qin's waist. Looking behind, she saw it was the same for the Emperor and Hiro. She was the shortest out of all of them, and would suffer that much more in the chilling water. She prayed that it wouldn't get any deeper than this, or she wouldn't be able to keep her heavy backpack above the rushing torrents of water.

By now, her lower body was already numb. The river almost seemed to call to her as she slipped through it. Rocks and stones were slick underneath her feet, threatening to give out at any second. The constant pull tugged at her body, begging her to allow the water to carry her somewhere far, far away, where she wouldn't have to deal with assassinations or betrayals. How simple it would be, to just _let go_ and lie down in the river's cool embrace. She could almost imagine releasing her death-grip on the rope, her hands drifting down to her sides in peaceful relaxation—

Under her right foot, a rock moved shifted and her foot slid right off of it, disrupting her balance, forcing a cry of surprise from her mouth. Her feet weren't on the riverbed anymore. Fighting to keep upright, her left foot caught onto a rocky crag and she forced herself on up again. Her hands were white-knuckled around the rope as she heaved herself back on her feet. _I'm safe, I'm alright, I'm alive_.

Then an angry rush of water caught at her pack, slamming the heavy burden under the icy water and she gasped before her fingers slipped from the rope, river water closing over her head—she was _under_—open eyes, blue light streaming down from above—such comforting coolness—such painless relief—

—a jerk that snapped her body back against the current, a strong arm lifting her above the river and she could breathe now, blinking water from her eyes. Katara choked, the arm around her all that was keeping her up.

Swiping a hand across her face, she opened her eyes to see Qin's head craned around to look at her behind him, a worried look on his face. "Lieutenant!" he yelled. "Katara went down, but the Emperor's got her now."

Katara could see that Lt. Ensei was already on the opposite side, standing next to a frowning Faozu.

"Get her over here quick!" yelled the blonde leader.

"Are you okay?" asked Hiro from behind Emperor Zuko. Katara nodded, even though she knew Hiro probably couldn't see. But her teeth were chattering too hard to form any words.

"She's fine, just cold," said the Emperor, his voice coming alarmingly close to her ear. Belatedly, she remembered he was still holding her tight against him to prevent her being washed away again by the river.

Shivering, Katara tried to grab at the rope with shaking hands, but found that she couldn't curl her hands around it, much less form a secure grip. She resigned herself to being dragged across the rest of the way like an ungainly piece of luggage. Still, she tried to make an effort.

"If I'm t-to heavy, I th-think I c-can w-w-walk," she said, trying to force the sounds through her chattering teeth. The Emperor walked steadily forward through the water.

"I don't think you could crawl right now, much less walk by yourself," came the reply, so close she could feel his warm breath by her ear. Much too close for comfort. His arm was like a warm iron band around her waist. Warm… warm was good. _I'm probably dripping all over him_, she thought absent-mindedly, not really caring at all.

It seemed forever until they reached the opposite bank. By then, she couldn't feel the cold anymore. Her entire body was numb.

Leaning down, the Lieutenant grabbed her as the Emperor pushed her up using her soaking-wet backpack, and she was heaved onto dry land. Then the Emperor and Hiro crawled up too.

"Is the second river far from here?" asked Hiro, shivering on the ground.

"Almost another day's walk," answered the Lieutenant. "Think you could stand staying wet and cold, or would we all rather just find a place to camp tonight?"

"We better camp and get warm," said the Emperor. "It'll get dark soon, and if we don't get out of these wet clothes, we'll all get hypothermia. Especially Katara." He jerked his chin towards her.

Katara tried to protest and say that she could walk for a bit, before she realized how stupid and ineffective that would be. She wouldn't last for a minute, tramping through the cool night in soaking wet clothing.

Faozu soon found a suitable clearing, and they began the usual preparations. It was all second nature by now. Lt. Ensei and the Emperor chopped wood and lit the fire (the latter was the Emperor's job), and Qin and Faozu cleared a patch in the undergrowth free of rocks and branches for the tent. Katara and Hiro sorted out the tent canvas (only slightly damp), poles, and tie ropes before setting the whole thing up.

Once the camp was ready for the night, the patrol began to change out of their clammy wet clothes. Katara was the only one who had to change everything—the rest of them were wet only from the waist down.

Opening her pack, Katara grimaced as she saw the waterlogged contents. It looked like she was carrying around a lake in there. This certainly wasn't good.

Her food; she gingerly fished it out and unwrapped the packages that had been prepared by the army kitchens before they'd left. Setting them out before the fire, she tried to save the still edible parts. The food that had disintegrated in the water she had to throw away; what a waste.

Her weapons were mostly all fine. The metal of knives and sword just needed to be wiped down to prevent rust. Her bow and arrows had to dry.

Katara groaned silently in her head as she lifted out her soaked extra clothes. There went her hope of putting on warm dry clothing. Try to wring out as much water as possible, she draped her black uniform over a low tree branch.

Turning around, a black bundle flew through the air at her; only by reflex did she catch it. She shook it out and discovered a dry black shirt. Katara looked up, surprised, at the Emperor.

"I brought an extra," he said, before turning away.

Hiro glanced up and threw something else at her. She caught it, ready this time. Pants.

"I brought _two_ extras!" Hiro crowed. "Pretty smart of me, eh?"

She smiled back at him. "Absolutely genius, Hiro."

It was easy to joke with Hiro, who acted like an affectionate brother towards her. She knew how to deal with that. The Emperor, on the other hand…

She set the borrowed clothes aside for a minute, lifting out her sleeping bag. There'd be no sleeping comfortably tonight. The thing was completely drenched, having absorbed water like a sponge, and it was impossible that anyone had brought an extra. Katara draped it over a branch next to her wet clothes, hoping everything would be dry by morning. See as how her luck had all but disappeared, probably not.

She crawled into the tent to change, peeling off her wet shirt. Nothing she could do about her underthings, unless she was going to borrow a bra and underwear from one of the men. The mere thought of it was outrageous. She would just have to suck it up and deal with it.

Katara had to roll up the shirt sleeves and pants cuffs just a bit, unused to the length. She'd already tailored her own clothes to fit her perfectly. But they were outside now, dripping from a tree branch. Oh well. _Be grateful that you at least have something dry to wear._

When she came out, everybody was gathered by the warm campfire.

"Feeling okay?" asked Hiro as she sat down next to him, poking at her food that wasn't drying fast enough.

"It's not like I'm sick or anything," she said, a bit irritably. "I just got wet. I'm fine. But thanks for asking," she added at the end, wanting Hiro to know she wasn't angry at him.

"It's thanks to the Emperor that you're fine," put in Lt. Ensei, on the opposite side of the campfire. She noticed he had his cigarette in his mouth again.

Katara tried not to be bothered by it. She hated feeling like she was in debt to anybody. And that fact that she owed her life to _him_, the _enemy_, made it even worse. Still, it would seem like she was an ungrateful little chit if she didn't express the fact that she was, in the end, grateful for his help.

"Thank you," she mumbled, before clearing her throat and meeting his eyes across the fire. "The river would probably have washed me away and killed me if you hadn't grabbed me in time."

The Emperor merely nodded in acceptance.

Katara hoped the warmth in her cheeks was only from her proximity to the fire. Why would saying thanks be such an embarrassing thing? She _was_ glad she was alive and dry and well. What was there to be all worked up about? She was a fool.

"This is real touching and all, but I suggest that if we make it to the second river by noon tomorrow, we sleep now and wake up early in the morning," said Qin, kicking a bit of dirt onto the fire, causing it to spark.

Everybody murmured their agreement and got up to tend to their last duties before turning in for sleep.

Hiro was unrolling his sleeping bag as Katara lay down on the tent floor, in nothing but her borrowed clothes. Her sleeping bag was still damp; she wasn't going to sleeping in anything else.

"Hey Katara, if you want to—" Hiro held up his own bag.

She cut him off. "This is my problem and mine only. You keep your bag; I'll survive."

Hiro grinned and pretended to grumble. "No wonder chivalry is dead. There's absolutely no appreciation for it anymore."

Katara just rolled her eyes.

"I bet you could at least _share_ with someone, these things are pretty big and none of us are too big except for Faozu—"

Qin sniggered and Faozu pretended to scowl.

Katara gave Hiro a look. "I'm not sharing with anyone—"

"You don't trust us?" He pouted.

"—even if you are as pure and innocent as you claim to be."

"I'm hurt!"

"As you should be." Katara kept an angry look on her face for a second longer before they both burst into laughter. _It's almost like having Sokka back again_.

"Keep it down in there, children," came the Lieutenant's bored voice from outside. "I said it was bedtime, didn't I?"

"Yes, mother."

Then there were only the sounds of rustling as everybody settled in for the night. Katara squished between Hiro and Qin; their wrapped body warmth on either side of her would probably prevent any deadly freezing that might occur in the night. She was fine.

All of a sudden the sound of footsteps outside and the Emperor's head poked into the tent. Everyone look at him in surprise.

"I just remembered—" he began, ignoring the looks they gave him. "—Katara doesn't have a sleeping bag, does she?"

"She said that—" began Hiro, before Katara cut in.

"I'm perfectly alright like this. I won't freeze to death or anything, if you were worried," she replied, her tone just a bit on the icy side. "but thank you."

The Emperor gave her one more inscrutable look before he finally disappeared, presumably to go back to his own tent.

Katara lay back down in silence, as the men shifted around again and began to drop off, one by one. It _was_ getting a little chilly, and she scooted a bit closer to Hiro, so her back would be warm. As usual, she was the last one still awake, staring at the tent walls above her.

She'd been wrong about her being the only one awake, because Hiro spoke, voice barely audible, as soon as she stopped moving. "You didn't have to be so cold with him."

Katara didn't turn to face him. "I don't know what you're talking about." But she did.

"You know we're all just worried because you almost got washed away in the river, Katara," Hiro continued, as if she hadn't spoken. "And the Emperor's probably extra worried because he actually saw you go under and had a little panic attack before he fished you out again."

"I get it, thanks," she said. _A panic attack?_

Hiro sighed behind her. "Alright, I can tell you're not in the mood. But I want you to know that this is just what we're supposed to do as an Elite Patrol. Look out for each other. Keep each other from getting killed. You know, sorta like best friends would. That's how we'll actually be able to work. And like it or not, you _are _part of us." Hiro paused a bit.

"And you know the Emperor is a good guy. He actually cares for us common soldiers, enough to attempt his own life to save one of us. Emperor Zuko is a good ruler, Katara, someone worth dying for." He turned so that Katara could tell his back was to her now as well. "And that's all I'm going to say. Good night."

Katara's eyes were wide open, seeing nothing but darkness and the vague shapes of her fellow sleeping soldiers. Hiro's words echoed in her mind.

_Look out for each other. Keep each other from getting killed. Sorta like best friends would._ The phrases echoed in her mind. Was this how it had come to be? Other people watching her back, keeping her alive, and expecting her to do the same for them? Sharing clothes and other things when one person was in need? Offering to give up comforts so somebody else would not go without? Remembering that everyone had their own quirks and personalities? Faozu's quiet strength, Qin's sly humor, Hiro's quick laughter, Lt. Ensei's dry wit and good leadership.

_Like it or not, you _are_ part of us._

What did they think when they looked at her?

What did the Emperor think when he looked at her?

A quick tightening of her chest and a swarm of confused thoughts filled her mind. She didn't get it. She really didn't get it.

_Emperor Zuko is a good ruler, Katara, someone worth dying for_.

Katara wanted to scream out loud, you're wrong, you're wrong! He's the enemy! He is a murderer, a tyrant, a monster! He isn't the closest thing to a good ruler! And he most definitely is _not_ worth dying for.

_So does that make him somebody worth killing?_

In her mind, the warm laughter of her fellow soldiers rose around her as she remembered their ribbing and teasing and joking. Especially today, about the heat and the shirt thing. How could they be so accepting of her? Didn't they see through her? Couldn't they see the _taint_ on her, the thousands of lies and lies and more lies that she had created in order to, at the very end, _betray_ them all?

Because she could feel that taint now, like an oily, greasy, disgusting skin covering her face and hands and every part of her body.

The image of the Mistress's bland, white, emotionless face juxtaposed the warm memories she had of the Elite soldiers' laughter.

_I want you to love me, Mother! Love me like you do Suki and Sokka and everybody else!_

Those words, those pleading, begging, childish words that had been her inner prayer every night before falling asleep. The foolish hope of a little girl who so desperately wanted a mother to hug her, kiss her, _love_ her.

But now, she found, she no longer took comfort in the familiar white features of the Mistress.

Because thinking of that face at that moment shot a cold, dead bolt through her chest, making her realize what she should have known all along, should have known since the moment Faozu had helped her with her sewing, since the moment Qin had told her a joke, since the moment Hiro had hugged her, since the moment the Emperor had saved her from the rushing waters of the river.

_I've already found people who love me. And it's not you, Mother. It's not you.  
_

* * *

**A/N: **Before you ask, Katara has not turned to the Dark Side (joke, joke). There are still people on Kyoshi Island that she cares about (Sokka, Suki) and would willingly kill for. But, as you can probably tell, her mind has been opened to new ideas. Just a heads up. 

So… as for the results of the Age Poll, I got everything from **12** to **32**. Wow. But majority of you did guess in the **13-21** range, which was definitely more accurate. And… yeah. I'm not going to tell you my exact age because pfft I'm mean like that.

A few of you also referenced Tamora Pierce and asked me if her books were an inspiration for this story and if I've ever read them. Alright. I'm going to be utterly truthful and honest with you guys: **I never even thought about Tamora Pierce until you guys mentioned her books**.

I swear to god. I _have_ read her books in fact, and there _was_ an inspiration for this story, but Tamora Pierce was _not_ it. I read her books so long ago (third grade? Fourth?) that I really barely remember anything, except that I didn't think they really measured up to all the hype they were getting. I read them because all my girl friends were. To me, they are the epitome of the definition of girl!fantasy, which I think is entertaining but oftentimes shallow (sorry to the Tamora fans). I've read a few authors who I think are amazing and have totally pulled off that genre, but in a more mature and developed way. (Robin McKinley, Sherwood Smith, Juliet Marillier, maybe Garth Nix).

Wanna know the real inspiration for this story? A space-technology military sci-fi action alien-fighting book that I thought was genius. _Warchild_ by Karin Lowachee. Amazing work. Real moving moral and ethical issues. A bit on par with the Ender and Ender's Shadow series of Orson Scott Card (whom I love/adore/worship) but different.

Hope you guys liked the chapter and R&R! (Yes, Adia was going to be in this chapter but it got WAY too long so I had to cut it out for the next one.)


	9. Unlikely Savior

**Chapter 9: Unlikely Savior**  


"Holy shit," said Hiro, staring down at the obstacle that lay before them.

The entire patrol (plus one Emperor) stood at the tip of a chasm that dropped straight down into the raging blue of the river below. The cliff sides were sheer and rocky, pebbles and clods of dirt tumbling down to the water below at the slightest tremor. The might of the second river made the first one seem like a baby trickle of a stream.

Katara stepped back from the edge, swallowing hard. She did not technically have a fear of heights, but still, looking at what seemed like the possibility of an infinite fall put a queasy feeling inside her stomach. Almost like the space below her was tugging, pulling until she almost leaned over and just _fell_. Shaking her head slightly, she tried to calm herself. _Holy shit is right_.

Lt. Ensei was the first to speak up as soon as they had all looked and trembled their fill. "Three problems: getting down, crossing over, and getting back up. Any ideas?"

"I guess the usual," said Faozu, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Tie a rope to a tree, lower ourselves down, swim over—"

"But how do we get back up?" interrupted Hiro. "We can't tie a rope to a tree on the other side while we're still in the river. How would we throw anything up a cliff that high anyways?"

Faozu nodded slowly. "Easy to get down, not so easy to get back up."

"Plus that river's currents have got to be much stronger than the first one," continued Hiro. "We definitely won't be able to make it across without help. We'll be washed away."

_I could do it,_ Katara thought privately inside her head. _I could slow down the river; not too much, but enough to allow me to swim across without getting carried away. _

_Hah. Fat chance I'm telling any of them that_.

"Who says we have to go through the river?" said the Emperor, all of a sudden. The patrol turned to look at him.

Lt. Ensei barked a short laugh. "What else are we going to do, fly _over_ it?"

The Emperor nodded.

Everybody stared.

Then Katara understood. "Wait—I think the Emperor means that we can do like we did yesterday, you know, the rope idea. Except we could string it _over_ the river and the canyon, instead of wading through the water." She looked at him for confirmation.

He nodded. "Faozu could do the same thing. Shoot the rope, swing over, and tie it down for the rest of us. If he's okay with it, that is."

Faozu looked pensive for a moment, then nodded.

"Crazy idea," muttered Hiro. "But I guess it might work."

Lt. Ensei and Qin nodded their agreement.

"You'll have to climb up one of the taller trees to get it into another one of the trees on the other side," said the Emperor.

Faozu had his bow slung over one shoulder and the rope tied around his waist. Grasping one of the lower branches, he swung himself up into the dark boughs of the tree, quickly disappearing from view.

Soon he reached a good height, and leaned out, waving at the patrol on the ground. The Emperor nodded back at him and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, "Now tie the rope to the arrow and send it over."

Faozu gave them a thumbs-up before disappearing back behind the leaves. Seconds later, an arrow whistled out of the tree, trailing the rope after it. They watched it, brows furrowed with anxiety, before it buried itself in a tree trunk on the opposite side of the canyon. The arrow was placed a bit lower, so that the rope stretching across the canyon slanted downwards towards the opposite side; this way, they could slide over easily with gravity's help. Katara could see that Faozu's aim had picked a large, sturdy tree for the target.

Then, looping a rolled up extra shirt into a short handle, Faozu looped it over the rope until he was hanging from it, and then pushed off from the tree, flying out over the canyon and leaving his pack behind. The patrol held their breath.

"What if he falls?" wondered Hiro quietly.

Katara made a shushing noise, eyes tracking Faozu's process over the river below. What if the rope broke? What if the arrow wasn't deep enough? What if the shirt ripped?

They let out a cheer as Faozu descended into the branches of the tree on the other side, and poked his head back out to give them a triumphant smile.

"Now that Faozu's getting that rope secured, we'll be able to go across with no problem at all," said Lt. Ensei.

"I'll go first," volunteered Hiro eagerly.

"Second, if no one has a problem with it," said Qin.

"Third for myself," said Lt. Ensei.

The Emperor and Katara exchanged a look, then she shrugged. "Going last is perfectly fine with me," she said.

"Then that's settled," declared the Lieutenant.

Hiro scrambled up the tree trunk, before he, too, was sliding over the canyon towards Faozu who was waiting on the other side. His scream of fear and excitement intermingled as he flew over the river. "YEAH! WHOO-HOO! I'M FLYING!"

The Emperor cringed slightly as Hiro's voice echoed off the walls. "If no one could tell before, everybody in the vicinity knows where we are now."

Lt. Ensei shrugged it off. "I'm sure we're the only ones here for miles around. There aren't any settlements in the area, nor have I received any reports of rebel activity here." But still, he looked worried.

Qin leapt off the tree after Hiro, and sailed over the chasm, unable to hold back his own yell.

"My turn," Lt. Ensei said, rubbing his hands together, getting ready to climb the tree. He stopped short, and frowned at the Emperor.

"What?" said the Emperor confusedly.

"Your armor," pointed Lt. Ensei. "I just remembered. That's like wearing a second person on you. What if it's too heavy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if it drags you down on the rope so that you can't slide over to the other side? If you got stuck in the middle, we'd be in a pretty fucked up position right there, don't you think?"

Now the Emperor was frowning too. "I'm not leaving it behind."

Lt. Ensei was silent for a moment before his eyes lit on Katara. "Why doesn't Kat wear it? She's lighter and the rope'll hold both her and your armor with no problem."

The Emperor looked at her and shrugged. "If you're okay with it, Katara."

She shrugged too, and held out her arms. "No problem."

As Lt. Ensei took his turn and zipped over the river canyon, Katara helped the Emperor take his armor off and put it on herself.

"No need to buckle it up completely on the sides," he said as he lifted it over her head. "we'll just be wasting time, and it'll stay on fine as you cross the canyon."

Katara nodded, trying not to show how heavy the armor was on her. Lt. Ensei had been right when he'd said it was like a whole other person's weight carried in metal. But she worked her shoulders into a comfortable position and stood up straight, determined not to show any weakness. _If he can do it, I can do it. Maybe even better._

He gave the armor one last tug, looking strangely vulnerable and unprotected without his usual suit of metal on. "Is that fine?"

"Yeah," she said, and pointed up at the tree. "You go first, remember?"

Hefting his own bag over his shoulder, he jogged for the tree and was up in a flash. Katara thought resignedly how she would probably have to grunt and sweat until she could get up those branches, because if this heavy metal behemoth on her shoulders. Ah well.

Soon the Emperor was on the other side as well, and she could see her patrol gesturing to her, telling her it was her turn to come over. Giving them an encouraging sign, she walked to the tree trunk and looked straight up. Lots of handy branches placed at spaced intervals, perfect for climbing. Her foot hit something before she could lift it up though; Faozu's bag was still here. Oh yes. He'd left it before going over the first time, just in case the bag's extra weight dragged down the then-yet unsecured rope. She frowned a bit. Well then she'd have to take it over herself; she was the last one on this side anyway.

Pulling it up over her shoulder, since her back was already occupied by her own pack, she gritted her teeth and reached up for the first spiny branch. It wasn't that hard, really; she'd had plenty of experience climbing trees with Sokka and Suki back on Kyoshi Island. This was no different, even though she was dragging extra burdens along.

Katara finally reached the rope, and straddle a tree branch as she prepared to go over. Giving Faozu's pack a cursory look, she had an idea. Why not just tie the _pack_ itself to the rope, cling onto Faozu's enormous bag, and swing over like that? Much easier than holding onto the rope herself and having the pack drag her down. The straps of the bag could hold _her_ weight, not the other way around.

It was quick work securing it to the rope; tight enough so it would not come loose, and with enough room so it could slide easily.

Alright. Time to go. She stood up shakily on the branch, and unbidden, her eyes glimpsed through the leaves the floor that was oh-so-far away from her perch. Damn. It would be a long, long fall. And once she was over the canyon, and even _longer_ fall to what would most certainly be her death. Sharp rocks and gigantic boulders would not make good landing cushions.

She forced herself to look ahead, across the canyon, at the expectant faces of her patrol soldiers. This was no big deal. Faozu, Qin, Lt. Ensei, Hiro, and the Emperor had already done it; why couldn't she?

Gripping the bag tightly, she leapt from the branch and tucked her feet onto the bottom pockets of the pack, crouching on it like some sort of armored monkey. She clutched the cloth of the bag with white-knuckled hands, feet digging into the pockets for a secure hold, as she swung out over the roaring river below her. All pretense of solid land dropped away, and her life depended on nothing but the small strength of a thin rope.

The wind beat at her, whipping her hair around and echoing her drumming heartbeat in her ears. Her eyes produced tears from the force of the rushing air, and she was half-blinded and terrified. _Don't let go, don't let go!_

Below her the river washed through the sheer walls of the canyon, and her eyes focused on the opposite side. She thought, almost there, almost there, almost back on solid land again, almost to safety again, almost home again—

The whistle of sharp wood through air, the slight _thunk_, the utter, blinding explosion of pain in her side—her open mouth, was she screaming?—the straight-feathered arrow sticking out like some bodily abomination from her ribs—her blood dripping down, down, down until those insignificant, beautiful crimson drops disappeared into the blue mass of water—her body seemed frozen, her hands clenched tight on the bag, her legs forever caught in that crouch—was it possible she was still hanging on in the middle of the air?

Dimly she could hear the outraged screams of Hiro and Qin, then she was flying through the leaves of the tree (_I won't be able to stop I'll hit the trunk won't that hurt?_) and hands were gripping her, holding her, peeling her hands away from the bag, asking her such unneeded questions, slapping her face. Every movement made, whether her own or by somebody else's force, cause a ripple of never-ending pain to snap through her body from that evil, ugly arrow in her side.

Then she was on the ground on her back (_how did I get down from the tree?_) staring up at that hot blue sky before faces interrupted her view, why don't you get out of my way I'm enjoying that wonderful cerulean blue—

Lt. Ensei's concerned face leaned over her own. Funny, she'd never seen him show so much emotion before. Was it really all for her? "Katara!" He slapped her face gently. "Katara! Stay with us, come on, stay with us. Can you breathe? Are you alright?"

_Do I look like I'm fucking alright?_ She answered him in her head. Opening her mouth, she tried to answer, but all that came forth was a pink spurt of bubbling saliva.

"Aw shit, this can't be happening—"

"—it hit her lung, didn't it? Didn't it?—"

"—you're not helping, Hiro, just get me the pack with the medical supplies—"

"Get the tents set up, we'll need shelter, and water, get some water."

"—Impossible! How did the rebels know we were here?—"  
Underlying the frantic yells of her friends, Katara could hear her own harsh breathing echoing in her ears. The raspy inhale, the shuddering exhale, each breath like it was her last. Then a warm hand on her brow, a small whisper in her ear, "We're going to have to move you, Katara, it's not safe here, okay?" She didn't know who said it, but all she could do was nod blindly as strong arms lifted her up off the ground and they were moving, each step jolting through her body, hitting that fiery pain in her side. On the edge of her senses she could feel the darkness encroaching, the relief from pain, and knew she wouldn't be able to hold onto consciousness for much longer.

"Put her down here," came the distant sound of Lt. Ensei's voice. No. She was already losing focus. She tried to hang on to her dimming sight. Was that the Emperor's face above her?

"I don't understand," said the Emperor Zuko, slightly muffled. "Why would they shoot her? Why didn't they shoot the first of us who crossed over?" Nobody answered him.

Then Hiro was by her side, tugging at the metal which still encased her body. "We gotta get this armor off of her," he muttered, trying to pull it over her limp shoulders.

"Shit. That's why," said Lt. Ensei, and Katara could see the Emperor and his Lieutenant lock gazes above her. "They shot her because of she was wearing your armor."

"_What?_" hissed Hiro.

"The rebels thought she was _you_," Lt. Ensei said forcefully.

The Emperor stilled, his hands still resting on the armor that Hiro was trying to pull off. "They thought she _me_?"

"_You_ were the target," Lt. Ensei continued. "They made a mistake. They tried to kill you, not Katara. She took the arrow for you."

_Nobody really wants to kill me_, Katara thought hazily. _That's good to know_.

Hiro heaved at the armor which had caused all this, caused Katara to suffer the blow and the Emperor to escape unscathed, and it rocked against the arrow. She writhed, arching off the ground, a shriek escaping at the furious pain in her side.

"Stop it!" snapped Lt. Ensei, swiping Hiro's hands away from Katara. "You're making it worse! We have to get the arrow out before we can take the armor off."

Hiro just sat there, hands empty, eyes wild.

Lt. Ensei lowered his voice. "I know you're upset about this, but we gotta do this the right way or she's not gonna make it, understand?"

Hiro nodded.

"Now I need you two to hold her down while I pull this out. Qin and Faozu will have the bandages and water ready—she'll start bleeding like nothing you've ever seen before once the arrow comes out. We'll have to put pressure on it quickly, or she'll lose everything."

Hiro nodded dumbly. Katara couldn't see the Emperor's face. Was he still in shock?

"If she squirms or moves, the arrow will cause more damage on the way out. You _have_ to hold her still. Hiro—her left side, Zuko—"

The Emperor interrupted Ensei before he could finish. "I'll pull the arrow out."

Lt. Ensei was silent for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"What, you don't think I can do it?" his tone had the slightest edge of a challenge.

The Lieutenant seemed to understand something Katara didn't. "Alright. I'll hold down her right side. Qin, Faozu—be ready with the bandages."

As everyone got into position, Emperor Zuko leaned down close to her, his scarred cheek brushing her own clammy one. "On the count of three, I'm going to pull it out, alright?"

Katara nodded dumbly, already tensing.

His hand grasped the shaft of the arrow, and she could feel the pressure all the way inside of her rib cage. "One—two—"

She could _feel _the slice, the slippery squelch as the foreign head of the arrow left her body. She exploded with pain, her brain swamped with endlessly firing nerves that told her something very, very wrong was happening. The darkness came, and this time she welcomed it, begged for it, pleaded for it to take her away from this awful hell.

She had one last thought before completely fading away. _You saved my life, and now I've saved yours. How's that for a debt repaid?_

* * *

Katara dreamt. 

She dreamt many things, confusing things, things that made no sense whatsoever. Things that might have had meaning, and things that most likely didn't matter at all.

_A boy. A flying boy. Young, innocent, childlike. But so powerful, so powerful that I'm so jealous of him sometimes. How does he do it? He's young, oh so young, but then he's old. Old like no one else in the world is._

Distant flashes of an icy, small home, a dear wonderful brother, and the calm wrinkled face of an elderly… grandmother? Is that you, Gran-Gran?

_Then we're off. A flying… cow? Is that a cow? No, I know what it is. A bison. A flying bison._

It seemed like she lived a million years in every second, lives and people and images whipping by her in a stormy maelstrom. All until the very, very end.

_I'm in so much pain. It's unbelievably, I'm giving birth (my child), that's why it hurts my body so much. And my heart—my heart is hurting because I've betrayed him like nobody else in the world could and I'm so sorry, Zuko, I'm so sorry I had to do this I know you don't believe me but I need to tell you I'm sorry and I love—_

She opened her eyes.

The gray fabric of an army-issue tent stretched above her. It was silent, cool, and utterly still. She was on her back, and for a horrible second, her abdomen was still in pain. Then she realized it wasn't the wrenching, life-defying pain of childbirth. It was a dull ache now, a throbbing mass on the right side of her ribs.

Katara breathed in until the she couldn't take it anymore and then she exhaled, relaxing her muscles and lungs. She was alive. Breathtakingly alive.

But just barely, as she shifted and tried to muffle her cry in the pillow when a spike of blinding pain ripped up her right side.

Apparently she hadn't been quiet enough, because immediately the tent door flapped open and there stood the Emperor, looking down at her with a frown on his face.

"Did you already try to get up?" he asked, a disapproving note in his tone.

Katara refused to meet his eyes. Faint, hardly-there images from her nightmarish dreams invaded her mind and overlaid the concerned face of the Emperor. Her own voice echoed in her head. _My heart is hurting because I've betrayed him I'm so sorry, Zuko, I need to tell you I'm sorry and I love—_

She wanted to rip apart her head. What was this? It was so heart achingly real and tangible. What the fuck _was_ it? Mere dreams did not have the substance and emotion that this one did. It was almost as if she were _living _it, seeing that scarred face lean over her, brushing her brow so gently and whispering, _"I'm sorry we couldn't have a happy ending."_

A cold splash of water hit her face and she sputtered, eyes focusing again on the Emperor's face, leaning over her.

"The arrow hit your ribs—it didn't do anything to impair your speech," he said, sounding annoyed. "You better drink this."

"Thank you," she gritted through her teeth, and lifted her arms slowly to accept the cup of water. Sipping slowly, she watched him move around the tent on the edges of her peripheral vision.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked between gulps of the cool, refreshing water.

"A day and a half," he replied, back turned to her. "It's around noon, one day after you got shot."

_That long?_ "When do we leave?" They still had a mission to complete. Now, because of her, they were behind schedule.

The Emperor turned around to face her, a curious look on his face. "You think you're ready to _leave_?"

"The mission is—"

He cut her off. "There is still a full day's travel to the Asaj Fortress. You think you can do that, with your wound? You'd more likely open up the bandaging and start bleeding again," he said dismissively.

Katara's fists clenched in the sleeping bag. "I won't be the one to slow us down! If you think some arrow scratch is going to keep me down—"

"You call that a _scratch_?"

"—you should think again, _sir_, because I won't be the slow one. I won't be the weakest fighter. I won't be left behind _again_." Her frustration and all her pent-up simmering emotions that had lain below the surface for so long erupted forth. Her anger at the connection Suki and Sokka had, and would never share with her, and the fact that they were the favored ones in Mistress's eyes. She would _not_ drag everyone else down, and would _not_ let them treat her like some invalid. For once in her life, she would be the strong one.

The Emperor's expression was one of shock, before he regained his composure. An icy mask slipped over his face, pissed off and irritated at her stubbornness. "Fine. If you want to kill yourself, I won't stop you. We'll leave tomorrow morning, and you better be ready by then, _scratch _or not."

He left, leaving nothing behind him but the echo of her own angry remarks.

She relaxed, leaning back into the pillow. Well, she'd won. She'd screamed at the Emperor of the Fire Empire, and she'd gotten her way.

So why didn't she feel any better about it?

"She's absolutely _insane_—wouldn't listen to a single thing I said—doesn't seem to care about herself at all—" came the Emperor's voice from outside. Who was he talking to?

The relaxed drawl of the Lieutenant answered him. "What was she screaming at you for?"

"Apparently she thinks she's in good enough condition to go traipsing about in the forest less than two days after she's received injury. Two days! Do you know how much blood she lost? Do you know that she could have _died_?"

"I know, Zuko, I know," replied the dry voice of the Lieutenant. "There's no need to get worked up at me for it."

"Worked up? I am not in the _least_ bit worked up, Ensei."

"Then lower your voice. I'm not deaf, ya know."

A pause, wherein she could hear the Emperor's confused frustration and the silent

laughter of the Lieutenant.

It seemed the Emperor wasn't done with his tirade, for he took a deep breath and

began again. "She's delirious! Absolutely insane—"

A low laugh from Lt. Ensei. "Let's move away from your precious patient's tent, Zuko. No doubt she can hear every word through that thin fabric."

Katara could practically envision the sardonic smile on Ensei's face. The men's voices gradually ebbed as the Emperor took his friend's advice and stalked away somewhere.

_I'm not insane!_

* * *

Later that evening, Katara received a few more visitors, each one better company than the Emperor had been, she told herself bitterly. 

"You look like shit," said Hiro bluntly as he sat down next to her sleeping bag. "I thought you were a goner for sure."

Katara wasn't sure how to take that. An insult, or a compliment? Insulted that he said she looked like something as distasteful as manure, or a compliment that he was glad she was still alive? _Oh, well_.

"The Emperor said you were talking crazy as soon as you woke up," said Qin, settling down next to Hiro, with Faozu close behind. The two men were wind-ruffled and slightly rumpled. Had they returned from a scouting mission?

"Talking crazy? _He_ was the one who misunderstood everything I said," Katara retorted.

The Lieutenant poked his head in, saw the small gathering, and sprawled down on the sleeping bag next to Katara. Apparently, she thought wryly, this was going to be some sort of soldierly pow-wow around her sick bed. Minus the Emperor, of course.

"He said you wanted to move out by tomorrow morning," said Qin.

"Yeah. How is that crazy?" she said, already knowing the answer.

"For only an infinite number of reasons, Katara," Qin replied with a smirk, lifting up one hand to tick off his fingers in order. "One; you're seriously injured. Two; you're seriously injured. Three; you're seriously injured. Four; you're seriously injured. Five; you're seriously—"

"I get it, I get it," she snapped. "But I'm well enough to travel tomorrow. I don't want to compromise our mission."

"The mission is important, Katara, but not as important as keeping you alive," said Hiro, a small frown on his face.

She didn't want to look at anybody when Hiro said that. Because they all agreed with him, having her best interests at heart.

And that was what made it so hard. Her enemy wasn't supposed to care for her.

"Well, I talked with the Emperor and he said we _could_ leave tomorrow," she said, eyes averted.

"He agreed to it because you practically popped his eardrums with your screaming demands," said the Lieutenant, flicking a bit of dirt off his sleeve.

"He's the Emperor," she stated coolly. "He won't agree with anything I say just because I happened to raise my voice."

"He will if he feels responsible for you," came the equally cool reply.

That stopped her. "What?"

"The Emperor is not a man without honor, Katara," Lt. Ensei said, crossing his arms casually. "He owes you a life debt. He thinks that since you took that arrow for him, he is now responsible for your welfare. And, in a way, your happiness."

"My happiness?"

"He'll do whatever he can to make sure you're satisfied, because you saved his life."

"I didn't mean to," she said bluntly. "It was luck that we decided I should wear the armor, not him. I didn't consciously save his life. I didn't jump in front of the arrow to keep him from dying."

Lt. Ensei laughed. "Now you've revealed to us that you're truly a selfish and conceited person on the inside. Here we were, thinking you would die to protect our Empire's great ruler," he said sarcastically, and it provoked a low chuckle from the others. They all knew that the rebels had only aimed for Katara because they had mistaken her for the Emperor.

"Whatever the reason," Lt. Ensei waved a hand dismissively. "The Emperor still thinks he owes his life to you. You could order him to set fire to his palace and he would do it to make you happy."

She recoiled a bit from the thought of having so much sway and control over one person. It was unpleasantly… powerful.

But while she had his compliance, she would use it. "Then tell him my answer's the same. I want us to break camp and leave tomorrow morning. We're going to finish this mission by rescuing that noble, and then we'll go home where I can rest properly."

The men looked at each other and shrugged.

"You won't be able to do much fighting," said Hiro.

It was her turn to shrug her shoulders. "I'll do what I can, and stay out of the way if something beyond my ability happens."

"If you do as you say, I see no reason not to move tomorrow," remarked Faozu. "And I have other good news. It'll be much easier, and much faster to travel in the morning because Qin and I just requisitioned some horses from the nearest town. You won't have to walk, just keep upright in the saddle."

Even though she had been prepared for a long hike tomorrow morning, Katara couldn't help but feel a bit relieved at this news. "That's great, Faozu. The horses will help a lot."

"Then it's finalized," said Lt. Ensei. "We'll leave tomorrow, as soon as Katara is ready."

* * *

**A/N:** I originally planned for the previous chapter, this chapter, and the upcoming chapter (three of them total) to be ONE chapter. But as you can tell, it all got really long and I had to split it, since a lot of reviewers think more medium-sized chapters are better than less long-assed chapters. I agree. And it lets me relax more as well. XD More chapters are always a good thing. 

**Could you speed this the story up a bit/I love the way you are taking things slow**.  
I've gotten several responses like the two above, and it gives me contradicting views as to what the readers really want. And do you know what I do in a situation like this? I'll go my own way and write my own pace. XD Hopefully that's good enough for you, and you'll keep reading even if I'm too slow or too fast.

**When are Zuko and Katara going to bond?**  
I've got a good dose of bonding coming right up.

**How long will this story be? Longer than THATP? Or shorter?**  
As far as my outline goes, maybe a bit shorter. Most likely less than twenty chapters, but then again, I originally planned for THATP to be only TEN CHAPTERS. Amazing, huh? I have no definite answer as of now.

**So who is Adia, anyway? I got the impression from other fanfics that she's a noble, but other than that. –MysticMist**  
Adia is my 100 percent OC that I created. If you are reading about her in other fanfics that were not written by me… that makes me apprehensive because then it means somebody is stealing my OC. She had a bit part in THATP, if that was what you meant. Adia is my own Original Character, and unusable by anyone else.

**Is Katara going to have a kick-butt scene/I think she needs to have a warrior woman moment. –several reviewers.**  
Information concerning all future scenes (including Kick-Butts) are confidential and kept in a three-password, 25 combination locked, booby trapped vault in my hard drive.

AKA: No further comment at this time.

AKA: If you break into the vault and attempt to steal my outlines and secrets, men wearing extremely dark suits and extremely dark glasses will show up at your doorstep carrying threatening looking briefcases and asking you for your social security number. Don't push it.


	10. The Rescue

**Chapter 10: The Rescue  
**

Katara opened her bleary eyes as the sounds of rustling movements and mumbled "good mornings" from her fellow soldiers around her greeted her ears. The air was biting cold even inside the tent; body heat was not enough to drive off the coming chill of fall. She almost welcomed it in instead of the killing heat that controlled most of the Fire Nation's long summer months. They didn't even have snow here in the winter; just a few rain storms and generally cooler and cloudier days.

"Are you feeling better, Katara?" asked Hiro quietly, looking over his shoulder at her as he rolled up his sleeping bag. "You could sleep for a bit longer while we clean up the campsite."

Katara smiled and shook her head. "I'll be out in a moment. I'll just be in your way if I stay here while everyone tries to pack up."

Hiro shrugged. "If you need help, just call one of us."

Katara nodded, and as Qin, Faozu, Ensei, and Hiro crawled out of the tent to tend to various morning duties (cooking, feeding horses, packing up), she gritted her teeth and began the painful job of getting out of her sleeping bag.

She tried setting her elbows firmly on the ground and pulling herself out, inch by inch. That required too much movement of the abdominal muscles which sent spasms of pain through her injury, so she lay back down, breathing heavily. A few more hours of this and she'd be out in no time. Clenching her fists, she began again, trying to distance herself from the worrisome ache growing in her side, and the sweat that came with the strenuous movement.

All of a sudden, two hands gripped her gently under her arms and began pulling her out slowly. "I've got you," the Emperor said softly. "Just relax."

Katara honestly tried to, but the nearness of his presence, his breath right beside her ear, his arms encircling her body, caused all the wrong reactions. Instead of relaxing like he'd said, she just tensed up, every muscle rigid.

He seemed to sense it. "I'm not trying anything perverted," he snapped, sounding annoyed. "I'm just trying to help you."

"Thank you," she forced herself to say. Their argument from yesterday was still fresh in her mind. And the things Lt. Ensei had told her last night as well: _The Emperor still thinks he owes his life to you. You could order him to set fire to his palace and he would do it to make you happy._

"Your gratitude overwhelms me," he snapped back.

Katara frowned. The Emperor thought she'd saved his life, and so was doing everything he could to help her. She understood that. What she didn't understand was why he was being such a… such an _ass_ about it.

But then again, she admitted grudgingly, she wasn't exactly playing the part of a heroic, generous rescuer either. They were both covering up their nervousness and respective needs for distance with unkind remarks and angry sniping. Hiding beneath a mask of toughness and I-can-take-care-of-myself attitude was apparently something they both had in common. _We're not making it easier for one another_.

Well, Katara decided she'd be the first to change that.

As Zuko set her gently on the ground next to her sleeping bag, she thanked him again, with more sincerity than the first time, and reached to put away her things.

He didn't seem to hear her, or was choosing to ignore her, as he began to fold up her sleeping bag for her. "I'll do that," he said, his tone having lost it's earlier edge. "It'll be faster for both of us if I do it."

Katara sat silently, leaning against her pack to conserve her energy as she watched the Emperor make quick work of her things. Before he was finished, however, the voice of Lt. Ensei called the Emperor outside to deal with something involving the fire. Giving her a stern look, he said, "Don't move until I get back. You'll just end up hurting yourself again."

She had a ready retort on her tongue, something witty about being able to take care of herself, but swallowed it at the last moment. Hadn't she told herself she was going to initiate a situation where they could talk to each other without biting each other's heads off? Fine. But he certainly wasn't helping.

Reaching one hand out, she managed to stuff the rest of her clothes into her pack, finishing the Emperor's job. Now she was ready to go. On any other day, with a whole and healthy body, she could have been out there with the rest of them, doing her part in cleaning up the campsite and getting ready to leave. She sighed heavily, cursing her injury. It made everything so much harder and inconvenient, not to mention that it'd almost killed her.

She shivered, thinking of her near brush with death. It was not something she'd like to experience again. The sensation of falling into never-ending dreams that continued to confuse her waking mind. It bothered her.

The Emperor reappeared, and without a word, moved to closer to her and bent to scoop her up in his arms.

She held up one hand to stop him. "Just help me stand up and I'm sure I can do it," she said, determined to do at least _something_ herself today.

He said nothing in response, so she didn't know if he was pissed off or happy at her idea. Instead, he just moved behind her and gripping her under the arms as he had done earlier, he gently lifted her up until she was standing on her own two feet, still a bit crouched over because of the low ceiling of the tent. Katara held her breath the entire time as Emperor Zuko slowly relinquished her weight until she was standing by herself. One of his arms was still wrapped around her upper torso for support, just in case she lost it and went down again. Katara hated to be so dependent on another person, but she also knew that if the Emperor had simply let her go to stand by herself, she would have been on the ground in less time than it had taken her to get up.

Her rib wound tightened—she waited for the inevitable sharp pain, the break, the rip that would tell her something had gone wrong, that she had moved too fast. Nothing happened. She let her breath out in a loud _whoosh_. If she took everything carefully, she'd be fine.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

Katara nodded. Her legs were fine—it was her upper body that she was afraid of moving.

She lifted one foot, the next, and walked at a considerably slow pace from the tent, the Emperor shadowing her at her side. Katara's legs were a little sore—nothing different from the usual after a hard day's travel and exertion. She tried to put each foot down as gently as possible; but even with these precautions, each impact with the ground sent jolts up through her hip until they hit her ribs. On a normal day, she would never have even noticed it. But now she was wounded bad and every single part of her body could feel it. Little pains; but little things quickly built up to become big ones.

By the time they reached the campfire, a distance she usually could have covered in less than ten seconds, she was sweating and breathing heavily.

"Should she be walking by herself?" asked Hiro, as they stopped to watch her progress.

"She insisted on it," answered the Emperor, eyes intent as he lowered her to the ground to lean against a tree. "I couldn't stop her."

Lt. Ensei laughed. "She's got a bad arrow wound and you're in the best of health—what do you mean you couldn't stop her? Did she throw her hairbrush at you?"

"Something along those lines," the Emperor replied stiffly, finally releasing Katara as she settled against the tree trunk with a small sigh. Obviously he didn't want to talk about how he was complying with Katara's wishes. Not exactly an Emperor-ly thing to do, listening to somebody else's orders.

Everybody else just shook their heads and got back to fastening packs and supplies onto the horse's saddlebags, and taking down the tent Katara had finally vacated. On the ground, she watched them, regaining her breath and wiping the sweat from her brow. Damn it all. _Why me? Why am I the one suffering?_

It was a selfish thought; even though it had all but rendered her an invalid, she would never have wished this injury on anybody else in her patrol.

_Not even the Emperor? Wouldn't it have helped your assassination mission along just a bit if he was wounded and weakened? An injured man is infinitely easier to kill than a healthy one_.

This thought by itself made her breathing quicken more than the short trip from the tent had. What disgusting, evil creature was she to wish that her enemy was in a weakened state when she killed him? What had happened to her honor? A fair and just fight, against equally matched opponents?

_Since when have assassins had honor?_

He's still my enemy. He might have cared for me while I was unconscious, and helped me this morning, and supported me while I tried to walk by myself, but he is still my enemy. Nothing will change that. I still have my own private mission to accomplish.

Then all of a sudden he was by her side, arm sliding around her shoulders, eyes focused as he began to raise her up. "Time to go," he said.

She stiffened, both from his proximity and the pain she knew was coming as her abdomen and torso bent and unbent, trying to rise from the ground. The everyday motions of moving and rising and sitting seemed like an infinite stretch of pain.

How could she never have noticed before? That there were so many muscles needed to accomplish the simple action of leaning forward. That those muscles contracted and relaxed in order to bring her spine forward and then raise up, allowing her hips to lift off the ground as her feet began to take her weight from her bottom? Then she had to lean back, those same muscles in her torso contracting again, trying to regain her sense of balance? That the mere act of _balancing_ required even more muscles to orient herself on her feet? That every muscle somehow connected and influenced a different one, creating a chain reaction of physical movement and pain?

Getting up was so much harder than sitting down. Sitting down, you had gravity to do most of the work as you relaxed and let yourself fall gently. Getting off the ground required painful _effort_.

The human body was an unbelievably complex machine that everybody took for granted. Break one part, and it was practically impossible for the rest of the body to function.

But it was possible to accomplish it with the help of somebody stronger. Her hands were clenching his black shirt as the Emperor finally helped Katara back onto her feet. Catching sight of her pack already tied onto one of the horses, she began to place one foot before the other, making a line for her destination.

"You know, it'd be a lot easier if you'd just let him carry you over," mumbled Hiro from the side.

Katara ignored him, letting her silence be the answer.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, her feet were finally resting next to the horse's own gigantic hooves. Looking up, she realized that there was absolutely no way she could mount by herself, without tearing upon her wound yet again. Turning to the Emperor, she prepared to swallow her pride and ask for yet more assistance.

He was frowning. "You're going to ride by yourself?"

Now it was her turn to frown back. "Of course I am. That's the whole point of horses—so I can just sit and ride without bothering anybody."

"You think you're going to be able to ride by _yourself?_"

"That's what I just said," she replied, a trifle annoyed. He had done a lot, supporting her as she walked, but this was getting a bit far. "I just need you to get me up there."

"She thinks she can ride by herself," he repeated yet again, this time to the seeming amusement of the other patrol members watching the little drama unfold.

"I think we all heard you the first time, your majesty," Katara snapped, not bothering to keep her tone nice this time. Really. What was he getting at?

"Alright," he began to nod, almost mechanically. "I'll get you up there." The Emperor had a sarcastic, condescending tone of voice.

She ignored him and turned to face the horse. Then his hands were around her waist, and she was lifted up into the air before settled into the saddle. He'd done it almost without any effort at all, she noticed resignedly. Unfair. She couldn't have lifted _him_ onto a horse in the first place, and if she could have, it would have involved a lot of grunting and swearing before she even managed to get him off the ground.

All of a sudden, she seemed very, very far away from solid ground. She'd ridden horses before without any problem with heights; what was this now?

"Are you ready?" he asked from below. Katara noticed belatedly that she was still leaning heavily on his hands, trying to keep the strain from her ribs.

"Okay," she managed to squeak.

Then he left her perched there precariously on top of the snorting and stomping horse. She was suspended in the air for a quick second as his hands disappeared.

Her body went through all the usual motions of balancing herself on a seat without back support. The tightening of the muscles around the spine, slight straightening of the neck, firm back, and contraction of the abdominal muscles and side muscles to keep her from falling forward.

It was this last part as injured muscles in her side shot brilliant pain through her, leaving her gasping for breath; she lost control, trying to relax to keep the paralyzing agony at bay.

She slid sideways, falling off the saddle, the horse stamping in annoyance at such an incompetent rider, heading for the forest floor, she was going to hit her head—

Emperor Zuko caught her, and she caught the superior smirk on his face as she tried to regain her breath. _Told you so_.

"I think she's learned her lesson," said Qin, eyes smiling.

Katara gritted her teeth, both in pain and at her own stupidity. Damn it. Why did the Emperor always have to be so _right_?

"Not trying to rush anybody, but we gotta be out of here in five minutes or we won't make it to Asaj by noon," said Lt. Ensei from his position on top of his own horse. Everybody else was already mounted.

Katara nodded. Again, she was inconveniencing everybody else with her stubbornness and injury. If she had just agreed to ride with somebody else at the beginning, they could have been well out of here by now.

"Let's go then," said the Emperor, half-carrying Katara over to his own horse. Qin dismounted to hold Katara as Emperor Zuko swung onto the saddle. Katara felt like a burden, a heavy piece of baggage as the Emperor situated himself before leaning over slightly and saying, "Here, give her to me."

Qin lifted her up into the air before the Emperor caught her and settled her in front of him as gently as possible. She clenched her jaw tightly as the short journey from ground to horse top still unsettled her wound. But she wasn't going to complain. She'd already made enough trouble as it was.

* * *

The cloudy dawn continued on into a heavy gray fog, and in the last few hours before full noon, a fine rainy drizzle began to fall over the cloaked line of Elite riders as they rode over the narrow forest paths. Everybody had their hoods pulled up to protect from the rain; now they were just black figures, covered heads slightly bent, proceeding almost like a slow funeral procession. It was too dangerous to move any faster; the rain made the rocks and gravel on the path slick, so that the horses occasionally lost their footing in a minor stumble. 

Her own cloak was packed away in her bag that was still attached to the one rider-less horse, so the Emperor wordlessly pulled his own over to cover her as well, almost like a small, dark, warm tent. The top of Katara's head fit neatly beneath his chin, and his arms wrapped around her waist to hold the reins and keep her upright. When the horse stumbled, his arm invariably jerked up on accident and bumped her wound; she hissed, and he mumbled a quiet apology before resettling himself around her.

In the beginning, her face had heated at how close they were together on that horse. Him, sitting upright; her, leaning with her back against his chest, head resting at the juncture of his neck and collarbone. Then the rain had started, and he'd covered the both of them with his cloak. It created a warmth that surrounded her and was not unpleasant.

Now, she was no longer embarrassed at their proximity, nor was she as stiff and tense as she had been before. Instead, the long ride began to wear her down. She could feel every single one of the horse's steps as it plodded along; one hoof, a second, and then the next; on and on and on. Each one jolted her injury, small pains until it all combined after an hour to form a dull, throbbing ache. She dearly hoped it wasn't bleeding again. If it was, she would be able to feel it, wouldn't she?

Katara wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but somehow the rhythmic roll of the horse's gait and the warmth of the Emperor's body heat all combined to make her slip off into a bothered, shallow doze. She didn't dream this time; for it wasn't a true sleep. She was still aware of the cold outside the cloak and the movements of the horse beneath her and the deep, even breathing of the Emperor. It was the half-sleep that came between the worlds of unconsciousness and full waking.

Then the Emperor shifted behind her and she could feel that they had stopped.

"What?" she murmured groggily.

"We're stopping for lunch," he replied, and unwrapped the cloak. She shivered slightly. Through the fine sheet of rain, she could see that the other members of the patrol were dismounting.

Hiro quickly strode over after tying up his horse and held up his arms to her. "I've got you, Katara."

Gingerly she swung one leg over the saddle so she was facing Hiro, and then slid down slowly with the help of Emperor Zuko. Hiro's steady hands caught her and she was lowered to the ground as the Emperor dismounted behind her.

Underneath the shelter of some low-branched trees, they ate a meager breakfast of rations and drank from water bottles. The water dripped down from the green leaves above them and soon they were all damp.

"The weather on this side of the rivers and mountains was always rainy," mused Faozu out loud.

"Can't wait until we get back to Kotzut," mumbled Qin, shaking his head so that his hair splattered water all over the place. "Give me hundred-degree sunny heat over this, this _water_ any day of the week."

Katara rather enjoyed the rain. It wasn't a real rainstorm, just a thin drizzle, almost foggy in its transparency. It was refreshing and cool. The usual heat of the Fire Nation just made her sweaty and muggy and annoyed.

They packed up again and as soon as everybody was ready, they were off.

Plodding along, Katara was surprised when Emperor Zuko all of a sudden began to speak.

"You've never been to the royal palace in Kotzut, have you?" he said.

Katara, a bit shocked at the sudden start in conversation, took a moment before she could fumble out an answer. "N-no, I haven't." She knew that Elite patrols sometimes went to the Palace in order to report directly to the Emperor when he was absent from the army barracks, but she had never been there herself before.

"Well, in the portrait hall, there is this one painting that my ancestor had commissioned. My ancestor—the first Zuko. It's quite big, and very well done."

Katara remained silent. He was telling her this for some reason, but she couldn't fathom what. If only she could see his face, and his expression, and maybe somehow understand his motives. But twisting around in his hold on the saddle would prove more trouble than it was worth, so she stayed still and listened.

"Usually the Fire Lords of the old days had their portraits painted with themselves as the only subject. My great-great-great-grandfather, the famous Zuko, had his painted with his deceased wife."

Katara stiffened. She remembered. _The first Zuko's wife was named Katara_.

The current Emperor Zuko, the one alive and warm and holding her in the saddle, seemed to fumble now. "She was—she was already dead at the time the painting was ordered by him—but the artist was someone who had known her very, very well. A small servant boy named Kaz, who had accompanied her on her travels, and who turned out to have an amazing artistic ability. The portrait with the two of them, the first Fire Emperor Zuko and his Lady Katara, was completed and hung up, and at his majesty's orders, was _never_ to be taken down, not even after his death."

"You'd think that he would never want to be reminded of her again, after she died giving birth," Katara said softly.

Zuko II laughed a bit harshly behind her. "Yes, well, some people say that he chose to torture himself that way. By seeing her everyday, he was reminded of all his wrong choices and the evil things he'd done. People say he drove himself crazy, that he could spend hours in front of that painting apologizing to no one. The genocide he lead against all the Water tribes—he thought he could rid himself of her memory that way by killing all of her people.

"He was very young when he passed away, having driven himself to a point of no return. He died, still apologizing over and over again to her."

Katara couldn't help but shudder. Insanity, the extermination of a whole race, and then finally a wretched death. Was that what love, or the utter loss of it, could do to a person?

If so, she didn't want any part in it.

"I know you think _I_ must be crazy, telling you all this, but my reason is—"

He was interrupted by a cry from Lt. Ensei, who was in the front.

"They're just up ahead! Let's go, let's go!" All of a sudden the horses broke into a canter, and the Emperor cursed and kicked his mount into a run as well. Disjointed voices reached Katara's ears over the sounds of the horses's heavy breathing and loud galloping.

"How did they know we were coming?"

"Don't let them get away!"

Lt. Ensei began to pick up the pace as soon as the path turned from rocky stones to a smoother dirt track, and soon they were going at a full-out run towards the Asaj Fortress. The Emperor held Katara firm against him to try to negate the effects of the bouncy run as much as possible, and she was eternally grateful for it. They had broken free from the overhanging branches of the forest and were now riding through a grassy field. Through the folds of the cloak, Katara could glimpse the backs of green-clad warriors, racing ahead on their own horses. Her breath caught in her chest.

From the corner of her eye she could see Faozu, grim look on his face, relinquishing the reins and sitting in the saddle with only his legs to keep him on; he pulled back his bow, sighted along the arrow, and let fly.

Faozu was a good shot. In front of them, a Kyoshi warrior cried out in pain as a feathered arrow sunk into his back, and he tumbled off of his mount onto the ground in a broken heap. The horse ran on, ignorant of its master's death.

One of the other enemy riders pulled back and turned around, obviously to try and save his companion. Katara wanted to scream, wanted to shout at him to _run_, because she knew the Elites were merciless against the rebels, and if the warrior stopped, he was as good as dead. But she kept silent.

A second arrow left Faozu's bow, and the warrior who had been trying to save his friend fell backwards out of the saddle as well. The horse snorted and stomped around before taking off across the field with the rest of the rebels.

"Cut them off!" yelled Lt. Ensei, waving one arm towards the rebels ahead of them. "Don't let them get back into the forest, or we'll lose them!"

Hiro and Qin were already circling around towards the front to drive the rebels backwards. Their faces were focused, swords out and ready.

One of the rebels' horses reared and whinnied high and loud when Hiro cut him off in the front, wickedly shining sword just barely missing the horse's nose. The Kyoshi warriors were surrounded now, horses nervous and wild-eyed, backing together in a tight circle. There were four total; two of them were seated upon one horse. Was the figure in front the noble they had captured? Whoever it was, he was hooded and cloaked in black, obviously to keep him from knowing what was going on and what direction they were traveling in. The rebels were obviously trapped.

Katara swallowed hard as the Emperor closed in on the circle that the rest of the patrol had already formed. Then, before she could protest, he had lifted her from the saddle, lowering her to the ground next to a toppled log in the field. She grimaced as she hit the dirt with a bit more speed than she would have liked.

"Sorry," he said, before straightening up again. "You'll be safer here. Keep your sword ready in case something happens. I can't fight with you in front of me. I'd be too worried about you getting hurt."

Katara nodded. This was what they had agreed on last night. She had insisted on traveling, but promised to stay out of the way if things got rough. Sitting down with her back against the log, she couldn't see anything at all. But the screams and the high neighing of the horses and clashing of metal was enough to build a picture in her mind. Shakily, she drew her sword from her built and gripped it in her right hand.

She could hear Lt. Ensei yelling orders—then a man's scream of pain. Was that Hiro? Please don't let it be Hiro. Please let it be the enemy.

Who _was_ the enemy?

Then the sound of galloping came from behind the log, and a sudden skidding stop as the horse threw back its head. Katara struggled to turn around, trying to brace herself against the wood; the movement caused her side to pain her horribly. She caught a glimpse of the Emperor's scarred face, and then somebody dropped down next to her with a muffled cry. It was the black-cloaked figure she'd seen earlier, the noble who had been captured by the prisoner. The noble twisted, trying to remove the cloth around his face before finally succeeding in pulling it off.

Feminine features greeted Katara's shocked eyes. A full, pink mouth, almond-dark eyes, and pale ivory skin.

"A _woman_?" both of them said at the same time, surprise evident on their faces.

The noble girl spoke first. "They let women in the Elites now?" Her voice might have been honey-sweet in an otherwise different situation, but right now it was merely skeptical with an edge of haughtiness, as if nothing she didn't know already wasn't worth knowing about.

Katara said nothing, still confused. She'd thought this mission was to rescue some rich old fogey who had decided to take a vacation at his summer house and had refused to evacuate even though reports of Kyoshi rebels had been coming into the area for months. Not a young _woman_. Not this girl.

The noblewoman looked down at the sword lying by Katara's side and scooted away a bit, eyes slightly fearful. "You know how to use that thing?"

"No," Katara snapped back, all of a sudden annoyed at this girl's obvious ignorance about any matters concerning her own country's army. "They let me into the Elites because I wrote good poetry."

Those bright, darkly lashed eyes narrowed. "Then what are you doing hiding behind a log? What, aren't you good enough to be out there fighting with the _men_?"

Katara stiffened. "I'm injured from an earlier fight with a rebel." _And I decided to give up a whole day's rest so we could come out here and rescue _you.

"Right," the noblewoman said. "And the Emperor decided to trust _you_ to protect _me_ because—"

Her words escalated into a scream. Katara whirled around, ignoring the pain that flashed through her torso. A shadow drew over them; a white face formed in an angry grimace as a metal sword came whistling out of the sky.

All those years of Kyoshi training paid off as Katara's reflexes reacted quicker than her rational thoughts. She brought up her sword, the rebel's own weapon clanging against hers in an ugly sound of screeching metal. Katara could feel the blow reverberate all the way down her arm and through her body. She looked up into his face, and did not recognize him. His expression clearly stated that he had no idea that she was a fellow Kyoshi warrior; to him, she was merely Fire Empire scum that needed to be killed.

_If I don't kill him first, he'll kill me._

Gripping her sword with both hands, she tried to force him back. He grunted and pressed down harder, gaining ground. She was weak from earlier loss of blood and her still wounded body; the only thing that kept her standing upright and fighting was sheer force of will. In the background, she could still hear that noble girl screaming. _How obnoxious_.

Getting desperate, Katara threw her body weight forward, trying to push the warrior back far enough so she could take a swing at him. It worked marginally well; his face showed surprise as he stumbled slightly, and she separated their swords. Taking the opportunity, she swung forward in a wild, uncontrolled attempt to take him down. The pain in her side was unbelievable; had she opened her wound again? All she succeeded in doing was leaving an undefended, open shot at her stomach.

For a split second, over the warrior's shoulder, Katara could see the Emperor riding towards them at a full-out gallop, bent over his horse, sword raised up and ready at his side. Before she could say, or do, anything, he had come up behind the Kyoshi warrior and _stabbed_; in and out, before galloping past in a storm of hooves.

The warrior merely looked surprised as he toppled forward onto the ground.

Katara, breathless, stuck her sword into the ground and leaned on it as an old woman would on her favorite cane. Black spots danced before her vision. She sank into a heap in the grass. Wrapping an arm around her side, she felt something sticky and then lifted her hand away to see a faint reddish tinge on her fingers. The blood was leaking through her shirt. _Damn it_.

"Shit," she heard faintly as Hiro quickly came up behind her and helped her lay back down on the ground. "Did it open up again?"

She nodded, eyes focusing on his face. Katara refused to pass out this time.

"Your Majesty, your Majesty!" Katara could hear the noblewomen pattering on. "That rebel—he almost killed me, his sword was coming straight for me—my father will be ever so grateful when he hears how you rescued me—"

"You're very welcome, Lady Adia. Now if you could just excuse me—"

Katara could hear the sounds of the Emperor dismounting in a rush, almost pushing that noble (the Lady Adia?) aside as he jogged over to Hiro and Katara.

"It's opened up again," Hiro said as the Emperor arrived.

Katara futilely tried to brush them off. "It's nothing big—probably just moved too fast—"

Hiro just shook his head and helped Katara stand up as Emperor Zuko vaulted back onto his horse, and then Katara was lifted up again. The noble girl was given the extra horse that was supposed to have been Katara's.

They were well on their way back, before Katara remembered the Kyoshi warriors. Were they still back there, dead and bloodied, on the grassy field? If they'd been in Kyoshi, they would have been given proper funeral rites and a respectable grave. Now their eyes would be picked out by carrion crows as their flesh slowly rotted away and their bones broke down into the earth. If the animals didn't get them first.

For the rest of the day, the patrol (plus one noble girl) rode at a steady pace back towards the two rivers, which they would have to cross again before getting back to the capital. The rain had stopped a long time go, so they were able to make good speed.

They crossed over much the same way they had the first time. There was no danger this time; the rebels who had shot Katara were now laying dead in a field behind them. They swung over, with the Emperor taking Katara in a precarious hold and Lt. Ensei taking the lady.

When night fell, they decided to camp between the rivers.

"We can stay here a few nights for Katara to rest awhile before we travel back to Kotzut," said Hiro. "You know, let the wound heal a bit better before attempting the rest of the trip." He looked to Katara for confirmation.

She shrugged slightly. "If we're not in a hurry." She didn't want to outright admit that yes, she _would_ prefer to rest, but if… "Wait, do you need to get back to the capital?" She directed this question to the Emperor.

He shook his head. "My uncle will be able to take care of things if I'm gone a little longer than planned."

"That's what we'll do then," said Lt. Ensei. "We're not in a rush to go anywhere else, Kat. You just take your time and relax."

Katara rolled her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Couple of announcements to make: 

New fanart for this story by Sarah! (link is in my profile) I want Katara's pants so badly. Links to other fanarts for both this story and THATP are in my profile—if you want to contribute, just email me!

I've received a new award! _Love Thy Enemy _is Fanfiction of the Month at the amazing Avatar fansite, Unseen Paths, run by the wonderful Lala-Ness! I posted the link to the award, and the fansite, in my profile. XD

Question and Answer time:

**Hey - is there going to be a guest appearance from Aang, perhaps? –La Editor**  
Hm, I've gotten quite a few questions concerning the reappearance of our favorite little Airbender. My lips are sealed. If I reveal anything, I'm pretty sure it'll ruin the storyline for everybody. Wait and see!

**Last chapter you mention Sherwood Smith as being one of your favorite authors. Have you read her book called CROWN DUEL? –kay jolyn**  
Yes I have! It's one of my top five favorites. I wasn't technically thinking about Meliara when I wrote this fanfiction, but I can see now the connections between Katara and her. Maybe it was all in my subconscious? XD Thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoy this story.

**SDFSDKL dude! I remember Adia! Yes! Is she coming back! dies -Outsane**  
SDFSDKL DUDE! Like, I bet you already found out! dies

…you are so freaking hilarious.

**is this katara and zuko the reincarnations of the origanals? –zuko's baby girl**  
We are on Chapter 10, kiddies, and this question is still being asked? Please refer to previous author's notes (specifically chapter 2) and the fact that I also stated in THATP the fact that they are reincarnated THREE OR FOUR GENERATIONS AFTER THE ORIGINALS.

I really don't want to have to do this again.

**i loved when Katara and Zuko yelled at each other. its so good to read about arguments, it brings joy to my heart. –jerseygrl246**  
As it does mine. XD


	11. Anticipation

**Chapter 11: Anticipation**

The next few days Katara spent sleeping, getting up occasionally to relieve herself and eat. Time was the best healer, with rest coming in at a close second. She got used to staring at the gray walls of the tent before falling asleep.

Changing the bandages involved outside help, usually the Emperor or Hiro. It wasn't a big deal—the wound was low enough on her torso that all she had to do was pull up her shirt a bit, keeping herself mostly covered, and then one of them would unwrap the old, stained cloth before wrapping new ones on. The hasty stitches they had made while she was unconscious remained in her skin until they could go back to Kotzut and get a real doctor to look at her.

On the fourth day, they moved campsites.

"Staying in one place for too long increases our chances of the rebels finding us again," said the Emperor, as he saddled up his horse.

"But I thought we killed them all," Katara said. She was surprised at how easily and nonchalantly the words came out. Like killing Kyoshi warriors was such a normal pastime that it didn't deserve more than an emotionless tone coupled with a few careless syllables.

"There's always more," growled Faozu, a dark look on his face. "They're always breeding."

No they're not, thought Katara. They don't breed fast enough. They'll eventually die out, if somebody doesn't do something.

Her first reaction to her own silent thought was: Breed. Like horses and sheep and goats breed.

Humans fall in love. Animals breed.

Her second reaction was: I'm the _somebody_ who's supposed to be doing _something_.

"Let's go," the Emperor finished, and lifted Katara up onto the horse before mounting up behind her.

"Are we going back to Kotzut now, your Majesty?" The plaintive voice of Lady Adia floated in from behind them. Katara refused to turn and look at her, although she could feel the Emperor behind her doing so in order to be a gentleman.

"No, my Lady," he replied, tone so perfectly polite and controlled he did not sound like the Emperor that Katara knew. "We won't be attempting that trip until we know for sure that Katara is fine and healthy enough to travel again."

Lady Adia did not reply, but Katara distinctly heard a soft, "hmph" sound that drew close alongside them.

Strangely triumphant for some unknown reason, Katara, sneaking a glance at Lady Adia from the corners of her eyes, let out a soft, content sigh and settled in as closely as she could with the warm body of the Emperor behind her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, so unawares that Katara almost laughed. As it was, she knew she couldn't keep the tiniest of satisfied smiles from her face.

"My back's just a little strained," she replied. "But I'm okay now."

They continued on in silence. Katara kept a firm hold on the laughter bubbling up inside her. She could feel the sharp, indignant, _jealous_ glances the Lady Adia kept sending over. Katara found it hilarious, that she, a common soldier, could command the envy of a high-bred, noble lady like Adia. The thrill of manipulation and power swept through her.

_He's so close to you (skin on skin) wouldn't it be the easiest thing to draw a knife and just _stick_ it in him?_

The smile disappeared from her face.

She rode on in sober silence. Lady Adia didn't matter. Lady Adia's petty jealousy didn't matter. Katara was a fool to think that anything beyond life and death mattered right here, right now.

The Emperor was so warm, so _alive_ behind her that it seemed impossible she would one day quench that fire and kill him.

Because it would happen. She would do it.

_I will finish this, and save the people I love_.

So warm.

* * *

Sleep, eat, piss, change bandages. This was her daily repetitive cycle for four days until she finally couldn't take it anymore.

"I stink," she said one night by the fire, when she'd felt well enough to eat outside with the rest of them. "I need a bath _tonight_." 

"Go ahead," said Lt. Ensei, not looking up from the food he was shoving into his mouth.

Katara was a little surprised at first that they hadn't protested or told her she should stay still to minimize her wound. But her body had been healing quite nicely so far, to the point where she could walk to and from the camp without another person's help anymore. Things were looking up.

She stood to gather her things for a bath, when the Emperor spoke up.

"You could take the Lady Adia along with you," he began.

Katara was momentarily confused. Lady Adia?

The Emperor must have seen her expression in the fire light. "The noble woman we rescued?"

Comprehension dawned. "Oh. I remember." This sort of ruined her plans for a nice, quiet bath that she could enjoy _alone_.

"She's been wanting to clean herself in the river for awhile," the Emperor continued, "But refuses to bring a guard with her."

Hiro and Qin sniggered. Katara glared at them, "I don't blame her."

Hiro and Qin looked indignant.

The Emperor had a straight face, but Katara could detect the smallest sign of a smile. "So I thought since you're well enough to hold off any attackers until you scream and bring us running, you could take her along with you."

Katara shrugged. "Fine."

By the time she got back to the campfire with her towel, extra change of clothes, and soap, the Lady Adia was already there and waiting for her. With only a terse, "let's go," Katara started off for the river bank. She could hear the lady's hurried footsteps behind her, and she continued on through the trees.

It was a short walk to the river, and under the moonlight, Katara soon found a small side pool of calmer water, a sort of mini-bay that was covered with smooth rocks at the bottom. The current rushed away further out in the water, but this tiny spot was perfect.

Without a word, Katara began to strip off her pants and then her shirt. She could hear the slightly shocked silence behind her from the Lady Adia.

With only her essentials on (and the white bandage around her ribs), Katara turned and said, "What, going to bathe with your clothes on?" and waded slowly into the icy water.

Katara could hear shuffling and cloth rustling as the lady undressed. She bent down to scoop up water to pour over her body before using the soap. This felt good. Being _clean_ felt good. Being in the _water_ felt good.

"Do you usually bathe alone?" the Lady Adia was next to her in the water, that haughty look on her face, having overcome her previous surprise.

"Yes. You think I would do otherwise?" Katara asked, unsure of where this was going.

Adia shrugged, a delicate lifting and dropping of her slender, milk-white shoulders. "There is talk," she said, a small slanting of her eyes beneath her lashes.

Katara stiffened. She knew that, as the only female soldier in the Elites, rumors were passed around and more often, crude jokes were made. She had made a point to ignore them before, and would continue doing so. "Talk is talk," she said, continuing to calmly soap up her bare arms.

Obviously not deterred, Adia started on a different track. "The Emperor seems to care very much about you getting hurt." Smooth, deceptively innocent tone.

"The Emperor cares about all of his soldiers," Katara replied. She refused to go for the bait.

The Lady Adia laughed, a mocking, feminine laugh. It grated on Katara's nerves and made her wish all the more that she was bathing alone. And it was this, more than anything else that Adia had said, that pushed Katara past the boiling point.

"Look," Katara said, finally turning to face her. "If you're going to say something, say it. If you think there is anything… anything _inappropriate_ going on, just come on out and _accuse_ me of it. I don't want to play games. Just say it, and I'll go on not caring, and you'll go on believing whatever it is you want to believe."

The triumphant glint in Adia's sloe-dark eyes confirmed that Katara had done what she had just promised herself she wouldn't do. Lady Adia had succeeded in annoying her.

"Whatever it is," Adia smirked, waving one hand dismissively, "that you and the Emperor _don't _have going on, know this: He's playing with you. After this little affair that you two _aren't_ having, he'll drop you. He's the Emperor. You're a commoner. An Elite, but nonetheless a commoner."

"Affair?" Katara hissed. "_Affair?_" Then she forced herself to relax and resume a calm expression. "You're insane. You have no idea what you're talking about."

Adia laughed again, almost as if she hadn't heard Katara's derogatory words. "You think you can hide everything and reveal nothing. I am from the Fire Court, little soldier, and the subtle machinations we have there make _your_ manipulations look childish."

"Wait—" Katara realized what Adia was talking about. The ride over from the first camp; how she had purposefully tried to make Adia jealous by leaning on the Emperor more than she had necessarily had to. "You're jealous."

Adia raised one perfect eyebrow. "Jealous? Of you?"

"Admit it," Katara said, smirking herself now.

Adia gave her a look—one that swept Katara from head to toe, lingering on her bandages, her scars received from training, her various bruises from fighting, her wet, tangled hair, and her dark, foreign skin. It was a mocking sweep, the sort of look an older woman might give a little girl trying to play dress up. Under her gaze, Katara felt her confidence draining away, her faults and flaws coming through as if Adia was seeing straight through the lies Katara kept around her inner self.

It was all she could do to keep herself from physically shrinking back.

"What," Adia said softly. "is there about you that I could _possibly_ be jealous of?"

Change the subject; Katara could save face and avoid the rhetorical question by changing the subject.

Averting her eyes, she pretended to busy herself by combing her hair with her fingers. "There is _nothing_ going on with me and the Emperor," she said with as much firmness as she could muster. "Nothing at all."

"Good," Adia replied, face twisted into a satisfied smile. "because if there was, I'd pity you."

Katara said nothing. Pity? She didn't want pity.

Adia took her silence as a go-ahead to keep talking. "It's as plain as day to me your girlish infatuation with him," she continued, rubbing her pale, perfectly slim arms with the rough soap Katara had brought.

Katara's head shot up. _Infatuation?_

Adia laughed, shaking her head slightly. "I understand; what is there _not_ to like? He's royalty, the Emperor of the entire world. You probably think if you catch him, snare him with your sneaky little traps and games, that you'll earn his trust and he'll fall in love and _marry _you."

Katara continued to stare, open-mouthed.

"It's a beautiful dream, surely," Adia gave her a sideways look. "One that probably every preteen girl in the Fire Nation has. The dream of becoming a princess, with golden riches and obedient servants and a handsome man." She laughed again. "A _hopeless_ dream. Except in the case of myself, of course."

Clearly this Lady Adia loved to hear the sound of her own voice talking. Fine. Katara could play the spell-bound audience without any difficulty.

"I have known the Emperor Zuko since we were both young children. We grew up together; our fathers were great friends, you know? His family is royalty, my family is rich. It is surely meant to be." Adia's gaze sharpened on Katara for a moment. "And nothing, not even a grubby little _soldier_, will stand in my way."

Katara finally found the voice to say something. "You _are_ insane."

"There is a fine line between insanity and ambition, Katara," Adia laughed that soft, feminine laugh again. "It is the perfect mix of the two that makes a person powerful."

Katara just shook her head, and began to step out of the water, reaching for her towel. "Whatever," she mumbled under her breath. "Whatever."

"Wait," Adia called out. Her tone was commanding; one of someone used to being obeyed instantly and without question. Katara gritted her teeth and turned around to face Adia.

"Even though it was the Emperor who really rescued me, I suppose I have to give you some appreciation for saving me from that nasty little rebel who was about to chop my head off," Adia said, voice light and cheerfully malicious. "What would you have me do?"

These Fire Nation people treated honor and debts very seriously. Even a shallow, power-hungry girl like Adia knew when she owed somebody something. If not that she was truly grateful, but to make herself look good by repaying a debt with graciousness.

But Katara wanted no part in it. Adia didn't have a single thing she wanted. "You can just forget it," she growled, pulling on her clothes and gathering her things into a bundle.

"Interesting," Adia mused out loud, her perfect, white figure rising out of the water. "I guess I'll just have to throw you a big party to thank you. What do you think?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, all mockery and jest.

This time Katara turned and left, without a single glance behind her.

* * *

"Hey Doctor! We've got a dying patient for you," Qin called loudly as he and Hiro hurried Katara inside the medical building. 

Katara grimaced, walking through the rows of beds as straight-backed and healthy as any other soldier. The trip back from the two rivers had been merely tiring, that was all.

The same doctor who had treated her at the very beginning after her gauntlet (it seemed like such a long time ago) merely glanced over before going back to his current patient, a man with a bloody arm. "I'll get Kaz to look at her in a minute. Sit down."

Hiro moved Katara over to one of the beds with an exaggerated care, almost as if he were afraid she would break. "Is this bed comfortable enough?" he asked her with a laugh in his eyes. "Could I get you something? A drink? Maybe a foot massage?"

"Get off," she mumbled, swatting him away. Qin chuckled. Hiro pretended to look offended.

"But I only have your best interests at heart—"

"Go unpack or something," she snapped. "Take a shower. You both stink."

They left, laughing and promising to come back for her later if she wasn't ready by the time they were done.

A slight shuffle at her side brought Katara's attention to the face of a boy who looked too young to be in the army complex, doctor or no. Then she realized it; Kaz, the boy she'd met on the first day of recruitment when she and Hiro had been standing in line. He was the nervous one who had asked if this was the right line they were standing in.

"Hey," she greeted him. "Haven't seen you around for awhile."

"Yeah," he replied softly, methodical hands moving to check on her bandage. She raised her arms up obediently to stay out of his way. "I just completed my medical training a few days ago."

Katara watched him as he slowly unwrapped the cloth, focused on the task at hand. She tilted her head back to look at the ceiling; her arms were slowly getting sore. Kaz didn't seem like much of a conversationalist. Quiet, no-nonsense boy that shouldn't have gotten her attention. So what if she'd met him the first day in the recruitment line? He wasn't that important of a guy.

"So are you a real doctor now?" She asked, trying to prompt something from him in order to fill the silence.

He shook his head. "No. I have to go on one field mission with a Patrol and learn how to deal with real-life injuries before I'm fully certified." Kaz took out a small pair of sharp scissor and began to snip at her stitches. "These can come out now."

"How does it look?" Katara craned her neck to look at her own side.

Kaz pulled out the last of the stringy thread and examined it. "There's going to be quite a bit of scarring. The stitches were done in a hurry, weren't they?"

She nodded and sighed. Another scar to add to her ever-growing collection. For a brief moment, she was reminded of the flawless, alabaster skin of the Lady Adia. Katara grimaced to herself. Damn her.

Kaz caught her look and merely shrugged. "Nothing you can really do about it now. I guess a little more rest and don't sleep on that side for a few more days will finish it. No infections. You're pretty much okay."

Nodding, she slid off the bed and rotated her shoulders. "Thanks Kaz."

He nodded, and she left, heading back to the Patrol barracks. She had to unpack and wash her uniforms. Hiro and Qin would probably want to go into town again for a little relaxation before embarking on their next mission. Maybe she'd join them this time.

She stepped through the door and was surprised to find everyone standing in a circle inside. Lt. Ensei looked up from the cream-colored paper he held in one hand.

"Arrived just in time," he said to her.

"What's going on?" Katara asked.

"An invitation," said Faozu, pointing at the paper in Lt. Ensei's hand.

"To what?"

Lt. Ensei handed her the invitation. "Have a look."

The paper was thick parchment, the kind only the rich could afford. The minute she felt it, she knew whom it was from.

_I guess I'll just have to throw you a big party to thank you._ The sarcastic voice rang in her ears as Katara read over the gold lettering on the invitation. Fancy words about throwing a feast or ball or banquet or something along the lines in order to honor the wonderful Elite Patrol that had rescued Lord Huang's daughter from the greasy hands of the rebels… yada yada yada… date and time, formal court wear… Emperor would be present…

Katara raised one eyebrow before giving the invitation back to Lt. Ensei. "We're not actually going, are we?"

They exchanged looks. "Well, it _is_ a party for us, specifically," Faozu said.

"And a banquet," said Hiro. "Which means free gourmet food."

"Formal court wear?" Katara pointed out. "I don't happen to have any ball gowns lying around in my backpack."

Hiro shrugged. "I'm sure the Emperor could scrounge something up for all of us."

Katara had no more valid protests she could voice without sounding suspicious. Truth was, she frankly didn't want to attend. It was a sham. Adia would use it as a chance to make a joke of Katara, she just knew it. It might seem innocent and fun (after all, how demeaning could free banquet food sound?) but Katara was positive there was something else going on here. Adia had mentioned a party with sarcasm; the only reason she would actually go ahead and do it would be to send some sort of oblique message to Katara.

Katara wasn't used to subtle court games; perhaps Adia had been right. Katara wasn't intelligent enough to manipulate and deceive like all the nobles did in order to secure power for themselves. She was a simple soldier; a simple fighter. The only way she would be able to figure out what Adia meant by this was to actually attend.

"Alright," she sighed. "I guess we're going."

* * *

Katara shivered slightly as she passed through the great entryway into the Fire Palace. It was a warm day outside; not a cloud in sight. Still, she had the strangest feeling. Shaking her head, she hurried to catch up with her patrol, who were looking around them with the same awed interest she was. Lt. Ensei merely strode forward nonchalantly at the side of the Emperor; they were discussing something Katara couldn't hear. 

This place was gigantic. Everything was beautiful carvings and red tapestries and golden decorations. She had never seen so many riches in her entire life. An entire nation's—an entire _empire's­_—history was in here. Generations upon generations of rulers and nobles had passed through before her. It made Katara feel quite insignificant.

"—only attending because my presence is required and I can't risk offending that family," the Emperor was muttering to Lt. Ensei.

The Lieutenant chuckled and said, "I'm sure your uncle will be there to help smooth things over if they get out of hand."

The Emperor seemed to relax just a bit at this. "Iroh was always a good diplomat. He's a peace lover."

Lt. Ensei glanced over. "Too bad it doesn't run in the family."

Emperor Zuko's reaction was bitter. "Of course not. I'm supposed to be the warmonger, remember? The prophecy that was made? I'm the one fated to finish what my ancestor started by killing off the rest of the rebels."

"I would think," Ensei said carefully. "that you would be happy to have them conquered and under your control after so many years of unrest and rebellion. Isn't that your goal?"

"Yes, well," Emperor Zuko's voice seemed a bit absent, almost far away. "I just wish it didn't have to be so… bloody."

They walked on in silence. Then the Emperor seemed to notice them once more. He waved a hand at the grand doors and rooms they were passing by. "That leads to the royal library—that one goes to the armory—the bedrooms are that way—"

Now they were passing through a long hallway with portraits hung up on either side. Katara could see the dates on the plaques underneath, getting more and more recent as they walked further along. It was interesting; so many faces and the change in styles of clothing. There was definitely a familial similarity between all of them. With some portraits, she noticed that one child in a previous family painting was the hard-faced, grown-up ruler in the next.

They passed through and finally came out into a large, open hall brightly lit with torches and one glittering chandelier up above. Two staircases curved up and around, opposite each other, leading to a higher floor. There were more double doors on either side, probably opening up to other large rooms. A few chairs and small tables were placed against the walls, which were red-hued and utterly blank.

Except for the wall opposite them. There was what seemed to be a large portrait there; taller than an average man's height. It was covered with a brown cloth, sides tucked in to prohibit peeking.

Lt. Ensei stopped short. "Zuko—is this—the painting?"

Faozu frowned. "The famous one? Of the first Zuko and his wife?"

The Emperor nodded, curt and short. "I had it covered."

Katara could remember now, that confusing conversation that had been cut off when the rebels had been sighted. _The portrait with the two of them, the first Fire Emperor Zuko and his Lady Katara, was completed and hung up, and at his majesty's orders, was never to be taken down, not even after his death_

"Why?" she and Lt. Ensei asked at the same time.

But when Emperor Zuko answered, he only looked at Ensei. He did not seem to see Katara at all. "I couldn't remove it; so I had it covered." It wasn't an answer, not really. But his tone of voice suggested finality and a cold, impenetrable mask for anyone who dared to question him further.

He shrugged. "It's not that bit of a deal. Besides, you're here for a celebratory banquet, not an art gallery showing." Now his voice was wry, sarcastic.

Katara couldn't take her eyes away from that dull brown cloth draped over the enormous painting. She wanted to see what was _under_ it. She felt that if she stared hard enough, she could almost, _almost _imagine the colors underneath, the gold and blue, the hand on her shoulder, the scar—

"And if you don't want to be late, I suggest you follow the maids and they'll show you where to go," the Emperor drew her attention back to him. There were three maids standing near a corner, dressed in serving uniforms.

"Late?" Hiro said. "There's three hours until the banquet starts."

"Trust me," the Emperor replied. "You'll need at least one." Then he nodded in Katara's direction. "She'll need two."

Katara didn't know whether this was an insult or not. But Emperor Zuko had already turned to leave.

The first of the three maids, obviously the leader, stepped forward and dipped a little curtsy. "I'll be taking the lady." Giving Katara a polite and inquiring look, she inclined her head for Katara to go first, through a set of double doors on the left side.

As Katara walked hesitantly forward, she could hear the two other maids directing the men through another doorway. She looked over her shoulder in time to see Hiro give her a reassuring smile before they disappeared.

A light touch on her arm turned her back; the maid bowed her head yet again and said, "If my lady will please follow me."

"Oh no," Katara raised her hands before her. "I'm no lady, just a soldier."

The maid gave her the most utterly polite mask Katara had ever seen in her life, and repeated, "If my lady will please follow me."

Katara gave it up as a lost cause and followed obediently. They passed a few closed doors, some open, brightly lit antechambers, until the servant finally opened the last set of doors at the end of the hallway.

A wash of humidity and wet warmth hit her hard in the face; Katara breathed in the heady, beautiful perfumed smell. It was a wondrous bath she had just walked into, complete with sunken tile pools with heated water. There were all sorts of bottles and soaps lined up on a shelf; a stack of fluffy maroon towels sat heating on warmer. To her, it was paradise, after three months of quick, cold dips in the nearest river during tiring missions, constantly on the alert for enemies. She could certainly die happy now.

Katara stood at the edge of the pool, itching to strip everything off and _leap_ in, but the maid stood silently by the closed door. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, the servant finally spoke up. "Is the bath not to my lady's liking?"

Katara, surprised, shook her head hurriedly. "Um… are you going to wait outside?"

The maid gave her another blank, perfectly polite look. "I am to assist the lady in her bath."

"Really, it's okay, I'd feel much more comfortable by myself—"

The maid cut in. "I am to assist the lady in her bath. It is the traditional way."

Katara stared for a minute, before finally shrugging and beginning to strip off her clothes. Obviously the Fire Nation people put much weight on their traditions and rituals. Maybe all nobles had servants helping them in the bath, and it was just her who had privacy issues.

Sinking into that blissful warmth, Katara couldn't help sighing aloud as she emerged herself all the way into the water before reappearing again, smoothing her hair back off her face. She heard the maid's footsteps approach, and then a sweet-smelling scent filled the air, before capable, firm hands descended on her hair, rubbing in the cleansing oil and perfume. Although she might have been a bit awkward having a servant attend her bath, Katara had to admit that the maid's careful hands soothing her scalp was _definitely_ an amazingly relaxing experience.

Eventually the maid asked her quietly to rinse out her hair, before redoing the procedure, and then allowing Katara to soap herself before emerging from the bath, a large, warm towel waiting for her.

_I could really get used to this_, Katara thought as she quickly rubbed herself dry. Her hair was completely clean, shiny, and felt good for the first time in months.

After she was dry, the maid moved her on to a room adjacent to the bath. Here there were all sorts of lotions and oils and perfumes on a beautiful wooden dresser with a bright mirror that shone Katara's reflection back at herself. The maid combed some sort of perfumed oil into Katara's dark hair, while she experimented with different bottles of lotion, rubbing them into her arms and hands.

The maid stood silently, crossed the room and opened the doors of three closets. Inside was the largest collection of _clothing_ Katara had ever seen in her life. Quietly, she walked along the rows, fingering this one, drawing out that one. Who had the money to spend on so much fabric and to pay the seamstresses to sew such complicated, beautiful outfits? Why would the Emperor have need of all these women's clothes?

"These are clothes from past Queens and Empresses, kept for important visitors who need a dress on short notice," the emotionless voice of the maid explained as Katara finished her wondrous inspection. "All are available for you to use at your leisure."

How could she even begin to pick? Katara decided to chose from just one closet, in order to limit her options. Green, yellow, pink, white, purple, orange, red, gold, silver, blue…

Reaching in slowly, Katara withdrew a blue gown, simple in its design but luscious in fabric and texture. A stiffer, brocade material with velvet lining composed majority of the dress in a dark, ocean-blue color. A lighter, almost gauzy fabric floated over the dark blue brocade, from what would be the bare shoulders, across the bodice lined with gold thread, and over the full skirt, until it drifted to the floor where it would drape around the wearer's feet. It opened in front of the bodice and skirt to let the heavier, gold-embroidered fabric show through.

"A good choice, my lady," the maid's neutral voice came from behind Katara. "Would you like me to help you dress?"

Katara nodded silently, and the maid took the gown from her, unlacing the back for Katara to step into. It was almost a perfect fit; the bodice was a bit loose. Katara blushed as she realized it had been made for someone better _endowed_ than herself. The servant made quick adjustments by tightening the back laces and rearranging some of the fabric.

"Now your hair, my lady," the maid gently guided Katara back to the chair. Katara watched as the maid's swift hands combed out sections of her hair and began to pin, making some semblance of the lengths. In the mirror she could see herself, light eyes large in her face, dark skin and darker hair. How foreign she looked, compared to the porcelain dolls of the women of the Fire Nation. Not for the first time, Katara wondered about her heritage. At least a bit of blood from the old, extinct Water Tribes to account for her Water bending. But what had they looked like? What color eyes? What color skin? A hundred years after their genocide, there was not much left of the Water Tribes and their genetic attributes. Almost nobody could remember what they had looked like. They hadn't been big on documentation or fancy portraits like these Fire Nation royals.

Gently sliding in one more pin, and patting her hair into place, the maid leaned down and looked into the mirror next to Katara.

"Are you ready, my lady?"

* * *

**A/N:**You guys know I usually don't do the cliffies, but this chapter got way too long. Forget my previous estimates on the length of this thing… I'm thinking it's going to push 18 or more chapters. Good news, eh? Also, my computer broke down over the weekend; that's why this update was a bit behind schedule. But it's all good now. 

And, I thought Katara totally deserved a makeover!chapter. She's been riding horses and sweating and fighting and bleeding so much, she deserves a spa vacation. And don't you think it's time our favorite little Fire Emperor started to notice Katara's more… feminine side? XD

And about Katara's dress-- I'm inviting everybody to ply their artistic skills and draw it! Open to interpretation, based on the details I gave. If enough people do it... maybe a contest with... a prize?

Q&A Time:

**Does Hiro fall in love w/ Katara later on? –Titan-Angel  
**Do you really want me to tell you NOW and spoil any chance of suspense and reveal the entire storyline to everybody? Or would you rather just wait and read it when I update.

People ask me these questions and I'm just thinking "Are they serious? Do they really want me to spoil it for them? Do they really want to know, by Chapter 4, what will happen in Chapter 12? Won't that sort of ruin it?" But I know how it gets to you. I'll try to update faster in order to make it easier on you guys. XD

**What was Zuko going to tell Katara in the conversation when they were on horseback before the rebels attacked and interrupted? –several reviewers.**  
Please see answer of above.

**I wasn't going to log in or review but because I love this story with all my heart and I want you to be encouraged and happy and all that... I shall review. -totallystellar**  
YOU, my friend, are totally stellar. Thanks for wanting me to be happy. XD Your review made me happy.

**Pookiemagoo—**Yes! Of course! Send me the link by all means! XD I love to see art created by reviewers.

**Did you see the new Avatar episode, "The Fortuneteller"? –crazyaboutavatar  
**Ahhh. I did. It was adorable and pretty well done. But not to worry, I'm still going to write Zutara. But please, my fellow Zutarians, don't be prejudiced and be ship-bashers, whether it's with Katara/Aang or any other pairing. Be nice. Share the love.

**Outsane—**I'm right there with you, dying all the way.

**On another, happier note, I think I've finally (only, like, 2 mths later) forgiven you for the ending of THATP –Arwey**  
I'm glad you've forgiven me. It was sort of a necessity, in order to write this fic.

If I didn't get your question, I'm sorry, and please ask again!


	12. Masquerade

**Chapter 12: Masquerade**

_Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads  
Masquerade! Seething shadows, breathing lies  
Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you_  
--"Masquerade", The Phantom of the Opera

The golden lights and bright chatter hit her face like a bomb. Trying to keep her head high, Katara slipped into the hall, sidling along the wall, trying to escape notice. It didn't help when she almost ran over a potted plant in her way; startled glances and thinly veiled glares were sent towards her.

"Sorry," she muttered to no one as hastily righted the miniature tree and hurried along. If she could only find her fellow soldiers, then she'd be safe from all this scrutiny. They'd laugh and chat together among all these self-important nobles. Who would dare talk down to an Elite soldier? There was no need to stare; why was everyone staring?

With much relief, Katara finally sighted Hiro's unruly head of brown hair over the crowded dancers and flirters. Apparently none of the maids had managed to tame it. Lt. Ensei, Faozu, and Qin stood next to him. Hiro caught her eyes at the same time, and she winced when Hiro began to wave enthusiastically, disturbing his chatting neighbors.

"Katara! Over here!" he shouted over the crowd. She tried not to shrink back from the interested and amused glances from nearby listeners. Why did he have to be so _obvious_ about it? Couldn't he have just waited for her to come to him, like any normal, patient human being? Now the whole room knew where she was. She would never make it in time over there without somebody accosting her.

Mumbling "excuse me" and "pardon me", Katara shuffled her way through couples and groups. She was almost there, and could hear Qin's loud laughter through the noise.

A beautifully manicured, slender hand caught her arm, and Katara barely avoided groaning in defeat as she stilled in her movement. Adia.

The hostess slowly let go of Katara, raising her hand to gently arrange a strand of her perfect ebony hair. She smiled, eyebrows raised. "How are you liking the party?"

Katara swallowed, averting her eyes. They were attracting attention. "It's wonderful."

That smile mocked her. "Good. I was so hoping you would enjoy it. Now tell me," Adia continued, turning to the side as a servant slipped through the crowd with a silver tray of delicate wineglasses balanced above his shoulder. She plucked three of the slender goblets off the tray, the manservant bowing politely, before returning her attention to Katara and offering her one of the glasses. "Have you had the chance to dance yet? The musicians I hired are playing the latest and greatest." Adia raised her wineglass to Katara before sipping the blood-red liquid.

Katara drank her own wine to stall time for her answer, trying not to choke as the foreign, bittersweet wine slid down her throat and over her insides. "No," she finally had to say, after downing almost half the glass in an very unladylike fashion. "In fact, I just arrived."

"I see," said Adia. "If you're at a loss for dancing partners, may I suggest—" Her smirk changed to an expression of surprise as she glanced at something over Katara's shoulder. "—Emperor Zuko?"

"_What?_" snapped Katara, before she realized Adia hadn't meant it _that_ way, and indeed there seemed to be a royal presence behind her, judging from the murmured greetings and hasty bows made by the people in the surrounding area. Clutching her glass in one hand, to the point of almost breaking it, she turned around to face his Majesty.

Their eyes met, and his expression looked just as shocked as hers.

"G-good evening, Emperor," she managed to stumble out.

There was an awkward period of silence as his mouth remained open but silent. Finally regaining his own wits, Emperor Zuko managed to sketch out a stiff bow to both her and the Lady Adia. "Good evening."

Adia wasted no time. Smoothly inserting herself into the little space left between the Emperor and Katara, she placed one alabaster hand on his arm. "Would you care for a dance, your Majesty?"

Katara kept her expression neutral. What was it to her if the Emperor agreed to twirl around on the floor like a mad fool with a beautiful lady such as Adia? Nothing. Nothing at all!

"By the way," Adia slanted an up-and-down look over Katara as she left with the Emperor. "Nice dress. I've seen it before, somewhere."

Emperor Zuko gave her one last surreptitious look before leaving.

Then Adia was gone, taking the Emperor with her and Katara was left standing alone on an empty section of floor like a lost child. Slamming her wineglass onto a nearby table, she strode off, back towards her original destination.

"What took you so long?" asked Lt. Ensei as Katara finally approached her _real_ friends, friends who were immune to the seductive charms of a flirtatious lady.

"Stepped on something nasty," Katara gritted out through her teeth.

"Nice dress," commented Hiro.

She tried not to react, when the same words had come out of Adia's mouth not two seconds earlier. And in an entirely uncomplimentary fashion. "Thanks," was all she said.

"You know," Lt. Ensei said drily, sending her a look. "Katara's pretty cute, when she's not running around in the mud and trying to kill everything that's green and moves."

Katara made some sort of sound along the lines of "Arghphmf!" before shooting the laughing soldiers a dirty glare. "I'm hungry," she hissed, and turned swiftly towards the lavish banquet tables on one side of the hall.

She wasn't really any hungry at all, but she determinedly picked out a few choice bits from the tiered plates in order to pretend like she was busy with something. After all, the food here was magnificent, like nothing she'd ever had before. She should enjoy it while it lasted.

Picking a dainty silver spoon, she set it on her plate and reached down for the enticing-looking chocolate covered mangoes. Her hand tilted, and the spoon slid towards the edge of the plate; "Shit," she hissed as she scrambled to keep it from dropping—

And stopped when a stranger's hand caught it before her.

Katara looked up into the face of a Fire Nation man, dressed in ceremonial military uniform, a slight, amused smile on his face. He must have been in his early or mid-thirties; she couldn't tell. His posture was straight, every movement steady and self-assured. Somebody powerful.

"Having trouble?" he asked, setting the spoon back onto her plate.

"Th-thank you," Katara managed to stumble out.

"You're welcome," he bowed, a small tilt of the head. "Let me introduce myself. I am Admiral Zhao, commander of the Fire Nation fleet." His tone and the expression expected her to recognize his name and position. _Definitely somebody powerful_.

Katara remembered his name, and remembered what she'd heard of him.

_Zhao especially likes it when I come out on mission. Each time he hopes I die on the way and never come home, leaving the Empire without a suitable ruler._

So this was the ambitious Admiral Zhao she'd heard about.

"My name is Katara," she replied, head high and trying not to let any of her thoughts show through. "I've heard a lot about you."

"All good things, I hope." Zhao smiled back, an easy and charming expression. This man had charisma, she'd give him that.

"Katara," he pretended to think for a minute. "The new Elite I've heard so much about?"

Katara nodded.

"A soldier, eh?" His eyes swept her up and down, up and down. She couldn't help but stiffen. It was the same judgmental, mocking look Adia was so fond of giving her. Except this time, Katara wasn't sure what Zhao's motives were. "You look like an admirable young woman to me, Lady Katara."

A compliment. So he was trying flattery first. She bobbed a little curtsy, a poor imitation of a true lady's gesture of respect. "Thank you, sir."

"If you would permit me to part you from your dinner," his eyes swept over the plate in her hand. "Would you care to honor me with a dance?"

This was what she had been dreading. Dance? She didn't know how to dance. But if she said no, the Admiral's eyebrows would raise, she would be disrespecting him, and word would get around.

Trying to conceal the shaking of her hand, Katara set her plate down on the table and placed her hand in Zhao's outstretched one. "It would be my pleasure."

He drew her onto the floor, steady and confident. They joined the other dancers, and Zhao turned to bring her closer to him. One hand clasped hers, and the other rested on her waist. Placing her own hand awkwardly on his shoulder like she had seen the other women do around her, she tried to relax. But they were too close, much too close. It didn't seem to matter that she couldn't dance; the Admiral was leading well enough, and all she had to do was follow him.

"So how is it serving under the famous Emperor Zuko?" questioned Admiral Zhao.

Katara swallowed. So he was trying to make conversation. Conversation was not good. "Uh—interesting. No different than any other soldier, I suppose." There. Was that an acceptable answer? Neutral and unassuming.

"But you aren't just 'any other soldier', are you Katara?" His voice was cool amusement.

She tried very, very hard not to react.

It was impossible for him to know anything. Those gold eyes of his were shrewd, calculating. He was waiting for her to trip up and reveal something. But he couldn't _possibly_ know. How could he? She'd met him a mere two minutes ago. Had he seen through her so easily? Seen past the oily film of lies and masks and into her dirty, dishonest core?

No.

He continued, clear voice striking through her jumbled thoughts. His hand felt like a vise around her waist. "After all, being the first woman to merit an entry into the Elite division must make you _more_ than an ordinary soldier, my lady."

She relaxed. So that was what he meant. Alright. She could be a woman, as long as she wasn't a Kyoshi Warrior. She could put up with sexism, as long as her identity remained hidden. "I'm flattered, Admiral," she said slowly, fluttering her eyelashes the tiniest bit. "but there are many soldiers in the army who exceed even my abilities and deserve your compliments so much more than I do." Act the part of a shy, embarrassed young woman. It always worked.

"Modest as well as beautiful," Admiral Zhao smiled down at her, and she resisted the urge to rip herself from him and proceed to dash out the nearest doorway. "Maybe the Emperor saw something he liked in you. I can't blame him"

"Maybe. Maybe not," she replied, the only answer she could come up with. Ugly rumors, suggestive comments, all pertaining to the Emperor. First Adia, and now Zhao. She wished she could end the dance and go back to the barracks and fall into bed and enjoy her solitude. Over Admiral Zhao's shoulder, she could see the Emperor and Lady Adia together, not ten feet away. For a split second, her eyes connected with Emperor Zuko's, and his gold ones narrowed.

"Did he pick out that dress for you?" said Admiral Zhao, snapping Katara's attention back to him.

"No," Katara couldn't resist snapping. What was it with the dress? And why was it that everything she did, whether it was joining the Elites or her choice of clothing, seemed to make everyone think about Emperor Zuko? If nobody had noticed, she _did_ have an independent brain that could operate without the help of any man, Emperor or no. "I chose it."

"Flattering color," Admiral Zhao looked absent-mindedly at her. "I seem to recognize it from somewhere."

Adia had said the same thing. Katara's eyes narrowed. Were the Admiral and the Lady Adia in cahoots over something? Did they know something she didn't? Oh! She understood now. Admiral Zhao was dancing with her _not_ because he wanted to, but probably because Adia had asked him in order to keep Katara from the Emperor, so the court lady could sink her own claws into his Majesty.

Before she could decide whether to kick Admiral Zhao, or find Adia and kick _her_, a soft tap on her shoulder made her turn around, thankfully giving her an excuse to leave Admiral Zhao's grip around her waist.

"Emperor Zuko," the Admiral spoke first, executing a perfectly respectful bow that held defiance and annoyance in every line of his body.

Katara tried to curtsy again; her second attempt was little better than her first.

"My apologies for disturbing you," Emperor Zuko flicked a quick glance at Katara before returning his attention to Zhao. "If I may—?" He held an outstretched hand to Katara, a clear invitation for the formal dance of the Fire Nation court.

"It is beyond my power to refuse anything to you, your Majesty," replied the silky tone of the Admiral as he bowed himself out.

Katara swallowed as she took his hand. She had exchanged an Admiral for an Emperor; had things gotten better or worse?

He drew her in towards him, much in the same way Admiral Zhao had. She tried not to flush at their proximity. There was one knife strapped to her thigh underneath the dress, and she could feel its cold metal burning her skin as the Emperor held her closer.

She couldn't see Adia or Zhao anywhere. The Emperor lowered his head so his mouth was right next to her ear, his un-scarred cheek brushing hers.

"That dress," he hissed, so softly none of the neighboring dancers could hear, "is the _worst_ possible choice you could have picked for tonight."

Katara was so shocked she didn't know what to say.

And so she merely sputtered, quite indignantly.

The Emperor continued as if he didn't notice her utter surprise. "I've already had it from three nobles and several of my advisors about your choice of clothing. Rumors are going to be everywhere by the time this damned party ends." He seemed to pick up steam. "I don't know _what_ kind of statement you are trying to make—"

"What are you talking about?" She finally gasped out, pushing him back. They were getting attention now, their raised voices causing raised eyebrows through the crowd. "I can't believe that—I don't understand what you're—just a dress—"

"Don't act the fool with me," he snapped back. "Don't act like you don't know what's going on—That dress isn't one of the ones available for guest use; it's kept in a room, _her_ old room, and nobody's allowed to go in there except for the royal family—"

She glared at him now, separating herself from him until they were two still figures on a floor of moving dancers. "Are you implying that I went and _stole_ this dress?"

His eyes were hard, flinty. "How else could you have possibly gotten it? How could someone not _recognize_ it, with that enormous painting my insane ancestor was obsessed with?"

_Painting? What painting?_ "It was in the closet the maid showed me, along with about a hundred others!" Katara couldn't resist stamping one foot; immature she knew, but it her shoe made a resounding smack on the hard floor. "What is the big deal? I didn't steal it, and it's just something I'm borrowing for the night." She pointed a finger at his chest. "You can have your precious _frills_ back when I leave. Which," she added, turning her back on him pointedly and striding off. "Is _now_."

"Hey!—" Katara could hear him calling behind her, but she ignored the Emperor of Fire and continued to thread her way through the dancers until she reached the opulent double doors. Fists almost shaking with embarrassment and anger, she rushed by the liveried servants, who gave her looks of confusion. She almost tripped over the skirt; ladylike steps were used in a contraption such as this, not the soldier's long stride she was effecting.

* * *

"So," Huang said quietly, an amused smile on his wrinkled face as he watched that female Elite storm from the room, leaving an angry-looking Emperor in her wake. "How much did you have to pay the maid to steal the dress from the locked rooms?" 

Zhao sipped his wine. "A fair amount."

"It's sure stirred everybody up." Huang's eyes were shrewd. "Not the least of which is the Emperor."

"I knew the Elite girl wouldn't be able to resist the color," Zhao remarked calmly. "She even _looks_ like Water Tribe scum."

"But they're all dead."

"Even stupid rats can escape the poisoned trap."

Huang shrugged. "I don't give a damn about her pedigree—it's enough to me that people have seen them, remembered that cursed painting, and are beginning to gossip."

"Support will be low for the Emperor this season, I predict." Zhao's face was an artist's mask of friendly congeniality, nodding and smiling at the nobles he recognized as they passed by.

"Infatuated with a Water bitch," Huang commented lightly. "Must run in the family."

Zhao smiled and finished his wine.

* * *

Hurrying along the brightly lit passageway, Katara lifted up her skirts awkwardly and prayed that no one would see her leaving the banquet hall. Passing by the silent glares and grim faces of previous Fire Nation rulers, she finally entered into the plain, unadorned hall with the covered painting hung so obviously on one wall. She remembered the Emperor's words about the portrait. The room was empty; her footsteps echoed in the silence. 

_I'm tired of being left in the dark_. Striding up to the hidden portrait, Katara set her face in firm determination and grasped the lower left corner. Yanking as hard as possible, she tore off the cloth, the brown canvas sliding down the gigantic, smooth surface and revealing a flurry of color.

Gold. Blue.

Scarred. Smiling.

A man and a woman.

Zuko and Katara.

She gaped into the Emperor's painted face and her own mirrored reflection.

He was standing, that straight, stiff and proper pose she knew so well. The light the artist had included was soft, illuminating one side of his pale face and throwing the damaged side into shadow. That darkness continued across his left shoulder, down his arm and onto his hand where it rested on a golden-brown shoulder.

Her own shoulder, left bare by the stylized blue dress she wore. Her shoulder, her neck, her face, her hair, her _eyes_. It was almost nightmarish in its exactness and _perfection_, like gazing into a mirror that would not let you look away. She sat in a small, high-backed chair, hands folded gently in the lap of her blue gown, head turned ever so slightly towards the man behind her, tiniest of smiles on her face.

Those fingers rested so lightly on her skin; she could almost feel it there like a ghostly touch, gentle, but sending a clear message across time and distance to the present. _This will be mine forever_.

Katara screamed when an angry hand grabbed her own shoulder, in the here and now, spinning her around.

"_What_ the hell are you doing?" the Emperor hissed, face inches from hers. "Don't you think you've caused enough trouble already? I had this painting covered for _a reason_!"

She gaped at him. In her mind, the calm, reposed face of the Emperor Zuko in the painting interposed the currently angry face of the young man in front of her. The scars were perfect replicas.

Katara lifted her chin. "I wanted to see it!"

His hand gripped her upper arm, shaking her. "Are you satisfied now?" His face was an expression of controlled anger. "Are you happy about what you've done?"

"You could just get somebody to cover it back up again—"

"You idiot," he said. "Not the damn painting. I mean about _them_," he jerked his head towards the enormous portrait, the still, painted eyes of his bygone ancestors gazing down at them. "Looking like—like _us_."

She stared at him. "She looks exactly like me," Katara whispered. "The same hair, the same skin, the same eyes, the same dress. It's like looking in a mirror."

"Which is why I had it covered!" Emperor Zuko snapped, fingers digging into her arm. "People will talk! Rumors spread like wildfire at court!"

"They're already talking," Katara remarked almost absent-mindedly, eyes returning to the portrait looming above their heads. The artist must have been an extremely close friend of Lady Katara, to paint her so realistically. She'd been dead by the time this thing had been comissioned by Zuko I.

Emperor Zuko shook her slightly, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes were suspicious. "What was Admiral Zhao talking to you about?"

"Huh?"

He was impatient. "When you were dancing. He was talking to you. What did he say?"

"Nothing important," Katara answered, a bit surprised. "Just small talk really. Empty flattery."

His face was all intensity. "He'll try to use you."

"What?"

"He's going to try to use you against me."

Katara recalled the probing, calculating eyes of the Admiral, and the uneasiness he'd left on her skin when he'd held her. "I wouldn't be of any use to him. He doesn't want anything to do with me." Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she doubted herself.

The Emperor knew it as well. "Watch out. Watch out for him. He'll try to get information from you, and use you to betray me, maybe he'll even ask you to _kill_ me-"

She cut him off. "You're insane." Her tone was one of annoyance and disbelief. Good. At least her voice wasn't shaking.

"Kill you?" Katara laughed nervously. "Wh-why would I do something like that?"

"Zhao's got a way with words," Emperor Zuko said, almost omniously. "He's manipulative and ambitious."

"And _you're_ just paranoid."

Emperor Zuko opened his mouth, then closed it, letting go of her arm and stepping back. Belatedly, Katara recalled the things she'd just said to him. _You're insane _and _you're paranoid_. Not only were they things you wouldn't necessarily say to your monarch and commanding officer, they were said without any sort of respectable title attached to the end. She was worried about repercussions now, yes, but more worried about the fact that the comments had slipped so easily from her mouth. So comfortably, like she wasn't talking to the Emperor but to an equal.

He seemed to recognize it now too, and a silence filled the air between them.

A soft chuckle came from the door.

An old, gray-bearded man stepped into the room. He was short and squat, wearing traditional Fire Nation armor.

"Nephew," the old man said as he came closer. "Is this the girl soldier I've heard so much about from you? Katara, yes?"

She nodded dumbly._ He's told his uncle about me?_

Emperor Zuko's lips thinned. "Uncle," he said, voice coming through gritted teeth. "Not such a good time for introductions right now."

"Oh no," said Iroh. "It's no bother for me. I love meeting beautiful young women." Turning to Katara, he smiled benignly. "I am Iroh, my lady. General Iroh. I am retired now, and spend most of my time taking care of my nephew. Fixing his mistakes, teaching him lessons, training his Bending-"

"Uncle."

"Oh. So sorry, Zuko."

Katara gaped.

General Iroh smiled at her, hands tucked in his sleeves. His nodded his chin at the painting behind them. "Such a beautiful portrait, yes? I don't understand why my nephew felt the need to cover it up. It's part of our heritage; nothing to be ashamed of." Behind him, the Emperor rolled his eyes in a very immature manner; Iroh frowned for a second at Katara. "But the similarities! Like twins! I always knew Zuko here looked like our ancestor, but with the both of you it's like reincarnation!"

"Uncle-"

"And I shall be leaving you young people now." Iroh smiled first at Katara then the Emperor. "Enjoy your night. It was my pleasure to meet you, lady Katara. You're not much of a talker are you?"

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he was out the door and gone as fast as he'd arrived.

The Emperor said nothing to fill up the silence left by General Iroh; instead he turned around and began to call for a servant to bring a ladder and fix the portrait cover.

Katara took this chance to leave through another side door; the evening was over for her.

* * *

It was a pleasant rhythm, this constant thump on wood, her sword moving through fluid motions, cutting down invisible enemies. Images of Suki accompanied her practice, the way her best friend had used the sword like an extension of her body, the utter completeness of her form. Katara would never be able to accomplish anything like that, and considered her efforts achievement enough. 

The practice field was all but empty. Hiro and Qin were a small distance away, throwing spears into a straw target. A few more people she didn't know well were sparring with wooden swords next to the armory. It was quiet except for the sounds of weapon on target and a few occasional grunts of pain.

A sudden noise at the gate caught her attention. Letting her sword fall to her side, Katara turned to see a small group of black-clad Elites swagger in from the side gate. A patrol of five, led by the familiar features of Lt. Sakai. Katara's eyes narrowed as she recognized one of the followers—Borr.

They were noisy, laughing and chuckling about something Lt. Sakai had said while they took their practice weapons from the armory. Katara grimaced at the intrusion, but brushed it off and went back to her business. Hiro and Qin looked over their shoulders before identifying the newcomers and shaking it off as well.

Concentrating on her strokes, Katara determinedly blocked out the noise behind her. It was when the sounds stopped, and she began to hear whispers and murmurs, that she truly became annoyed. Footsteps drew closer, and the back of her neck prickled. She tried to ignore them, to not give them a reaction, and kept her back to them. It went against all her natural instincts—having your enemy at your back wasn't a good survival decision.

"Long time no see, Katara," came the slow, taunting voice of Borr from behind her.

Letting her sword drop to her side, held loosely by one hand, she turned around to face them. A patrol of five, Lt. Sakai at the center, stood in a semi-circle around her. From the corner of her eye, Katara could see Hiro notice and tap Qin on the shoulder.

"Good afternoon," Katara said pleasantly, her voice strong. Present a non-threatening façade, and maybe they'd get bored and go away.

"Heard you had a party thrown in your honor," Lt. Sakai said. "But we didn't get any invitations."

"They messenger must have lost them."

"Must have," Lt. Sakai replied, thin smirk on his face. "But we wouldn't have gone anyways. We were busy in the city. Lots of things to do in the city."

The men sniggered, and somebody echoed, "Lots of things."

Katara said nothing, sword point touching the ground.

"We heard you had fun, though," Borr chimed in. "Dressing up. Pretending to be a lady. Dancing with important men."

"Don't be jealous, Borr," Katara said with a lazy flick of one hand. She hoped she was the only one who noticed it was trembling. "It's terribly immature of you."

Lt. Sakai's patrol whistled low and elbowed Borr. His face grew red. There was a man who couldn't control his temper. "What is there about you I would ever be jealous of?" He shot back, trying to look confident. "I worked to get into the Elites—you, you just sweet talked the Emperor and fluttered your eyelashes and you got in," he snapped his fingers. "just like that!"

With every word he said, Katara's throat constricted with something beyond anger. She was tired of it. All of it. First Adia, then Admiral Zhao, and now Borr was spouting the lies that probably half the nation believed. What did she have to do to _prove_ herself around here?

"You're so full of bullshit you don't even know it," Katara said calmly, staring Borr straight in the eyes. "You're so deluded with your prejudices that you won't even admit it when you're threatened by somebody better than you, somebody who deserves your respect!" Now she'd lost her previous steadiness and her voice was climbing in volume. She could see Hiro and Qin hurrying over. "I worked my _ass_off," she snapped, one finger pointing directly at him. "I worked just as hard as you to get accepted, Borr. _Harder_."

"The only thing that was hard for _you_," Borr sneered, "was the Emperor's—"

Katara leapt for his throat, and Borr never got to finish his sentence.

She landed on him, knocking him to the ground, hands clenched around his neck. He choked, one hand scrambling at his throat, the other one drew back and punched her in the face. Reeling from the pain, Katara loosened her grip on him for one second, and he used the opportunity to wriggle out from under her grasp. Shoving her off of him, he stood up, breathing harshly.

Stumbling, Katara rose to her feet, and was barely ready when Borr let fly another fist to her face. She twisted at the last second and he caught her shoulder instead, but she kept her balance and drew up her leg to slam her foot into his side as he was still pulling back his fist. There was a circle of spectators around them, Hiro and Qin and Lt. Sakai included. None of them would interfere. This was a manner of honor for Katara and Borr, protecting their pride and reputation. Nobody would try to stop either of them. And Katara was perfectly fine with that.

Borr stumbled a bit before catching her foot before she could retract it and twisting it so she fell, front-first, onto the ground. The wind was knocked out of her; she didn't even have enough air to gasp in pain. But now she forgot about breathing and getting hurt. There was something more pressing to deal with. She forced it all those little distractions to the back of her mind and rolled over, trying to get back up again.

When Borr tried to kick her in her stomach to keep her down, she knocked his leg out from under him and he landed in the dirt, gasping. Flipping over, Katara reached out and punched his nose, feeling the crack and squish of cartilage under her fingers.

Katara was beyond reason now. She was tired of the rumors, tired of all the fucking _talk_, and for once, just _once_ she was going to stop being nice, biddable little Katara and she was going to _let go_ and if that meant killing somebody, then so be it—

"_What is going on here?_" There was somebody there, a voice of authority permeating through the haze of pain and whatever it was she was doing to Borr currently. She knew it was the Emperor; she ignored him.

Borr, blinded by pain and completely beyond any sort of rational reasoning or thought for consequences, swiftly turned around and snarled, "Your bitch is in heat, _sir_!"

Katara, still trying to stand from the ground, watched in blurry amazement as another fist came out from the side of her vision and smashed into Borr's jaw, driving him through the air until he landed on his back in the dirt some few feet away.

"Say it again," The Emperor almost taunted him. The entire crowd was silent, watchful. "Say it again."

On the ground, all Borr could do was whimper.

Katara got her feet under herself and stood up, wavering like a drunken idiot. Eyes blurred, she couldn't pick out individual faces as she stumbled through the crowd, people moving aside for her silently. Hiro was by her side; she pushed him away, intent on getting somewhere, getting anywhere, getting what was _owed_ her—

She could barely hear the commanding tone of the Emperor. Fuck him. Fuck his great majesty. Just when she'd had Borr in her grasp—she had been _winning_, she knew it—then he had to come in and take away her glory, her final victory, everything she'd wanted and everything she'd worked for—gone like that—like a tiny flame under a rushing waterfall—

Why did he have to interfere? She was never going to forgive him. _I don't care if you're so damned sorry_.

Where was she now? Outside of the practice field, going towards her barracks? This place was huge; she never would have gotten lost back in Kyoshi.

"Katara," he called behind her, quick footsteps catching up. "Katara, stop!"

She did. But only, she told herself, because she was too tired to go any further and she need to take a little break.

The Emperor arrived. "Katara—what happened back there? I—"

"_You_," she whirled on him, finding that she still had a little energy left, at least for this. "_You_ happened. _You_ ruined it. _You_ came in and screwed everything up! I was doing fine! I was winning!"

"Why were you fighting in the first place?"

"_You!_" Katara shrilled, letting it all come out. "_You're_ the reason I was fighting Borr! Because of you! All the bullshit that's going around is because of you! And then you had to come in and interrupt me by asking what was _going on_!"

"I was just trying to help—" He looked frustrated.

"I don't need your help!" Her throat hurt. "I don't need you!"

He seemed to realize, belatedly, what sort of state she was in. She wouldn't listen to reasoning, and wouldn't accept any of his excuses as an answer. This was not the normal, obedient soldier Katara he was used to dealing with.

"I apologize," he said, voice tight and controlled. "I'm sorry I helped you."

He wasn't sure she heard him. Instead, she was walking off again, mumbling to herself, and he, the Emperor of Fire, stood there and watched as Katara stumbled all the way to her barracks, a lonely figure between the high buildings of the army complex.

And there was still hell to deal with back at the practice field. Emperor Zuko hoped somebody had taken Borr to the medical building by now. When he'd left, Lt. Sakai had been red in the face with rage over Borr's condition, talking crazy about finding Lt. Ensei and teaching him a lesson about controlling his patrol soldier's temper.

The Emperor sighed. He'd better go find Ensei and tell him what had happened. Things weren't looking good at all.

* * *

**A/N: **All the people who wanted to send in art, please do so! I love looking at eye-candy! Or, since this chapter dealt with the portrait of Zuko the first and Katara the first, I'd like to see that in real form too. 

A whole bunch of you predicted the dress thing, which was a good thing, because I would be scared if you hadn't. I thought I certainly went into enough DETAIL about it to merit some kind of attention... good job!

Well you know how majority (actually, ALL) of this story so far has been specifically from Katara's POV? Whereas in THATP, I often switched between Zuko and Katara? That means that in LTE, less of Zuko's history and background and experiences are shown. There was a bit of Zuko-POV at the very end of this chapter, but I promise, don't worry, he'll have his version of the tale before we complete and end this (not that it's going to end anytime soon... not if my outline has its way with me).

**the description of the dress makes it sound more Western/European where I think that in this Avatarverse such clothing would not exist and katara would wear something more like a robe/kimono. --Spleef**  
After reading your review, Spleef, I must say I agree and I'm glad you told me that. You're very right... and now I wish I could go back and change parts of the description. Nice observation. Can't believe I didn't think of it. Thank you very much.

**Coz I'm such a LTE groupie --Red Hawk K'sani**  
OMGWTFTHISSTORYHASGROUPIES!211!1!1

If I missed your question, I'm sorry, and ask me again!

**Edit: WHO WANTS PICTURES AND MUSIC? Some pretty photos and a sample of some of the music I listen to while writing this/wasting time. All at the trusty little LJ. Go now. **


	13. Only This Moment

**Chapter 13: Only This Moment**

Katara woke up to an empty barrack. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep since stumbling back to her bed, but the light was only just beginning to dim outside. Stumbling from bed, she blearily rubbed her eyes as she entered the bathroom, shutting it behind her. There was a deep scratch on one cheek—light bruising on her jaw and her shoulder ached. Nothing unexpected from a fistfight. If she was lucky, Borr's nose would never be straight again.

Footsteps out in the room made her open the bathroom door a crack to check to see who it was. The deadpan eyes of Lt. Ensei met hers, and she sighed before opening the door the rest of the way and stepping out.

"Have fun?" he said drily, noting the dried brown blood from the cut on her cheek.

"Yes," she said, completely truthful. It felt strange, this new liberated feeling in her chest. She'd punched Borr's face in; wasn't she supposed to feel guilty?

"Sakai's out for your blood," Lt. Ensei said, leaning against a bunk. "And if not yours, then mine."

"What's he getting involved for?" Katara sniped, moving towards her shelve to pull out a small bag of healing cream. "It was an equal fight between two equally matched opponents."

"Sakai's putting out that it was unfair; a two against one situation."

"What, Borr's imaginary friend joined in?"

"The Emperor."

"Oh."

"People on the outside aren't supposed to interfere, even if they're royalty," Lt. Ensei said, as if reminding her. She grimaced and nodded. She knew.

"So what's Sakai going to do? Spank his Majesty?"

Ensei shrugged. "Obviously not. So he's going for second-best."

"Me." Katara put on a nonchalant face and turned to rummage around in her bag.

"His whole patrol wants you thrown from the Elites for getting dishonorable help in what was supposed to be a fair fight."

Katara whirled around, eyes narrowed. "I didn't _ask_ for his help—"

"You think I don't know that?" Ensei said, cutting her off.

"Alright," Katara snapped, folding her arms across her chest. Inside, she began to feel the first stirrings of trepidation. She was confident, but what if Sakai really picked up steam and managed to get her kicked out from the Elites? It was possible. And then everything she'd done for the past six months would go straight down the drain. "What do you suggest I do, then?"

Ensei shrugged again. "Wait for it to blow over, is my best idea. After a few weeks, Sakai might loose support and he'll eventually forget about it, or think it's not important enough for him to deal with."

"So what do I do, hide in the barracks all day and all night until Sakai wakes up one morning and forgets who I am?"

The lieutenant slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out to Katara. "We could leave. The Emperor just sent us a new assignment; rebel movement in the south. It's sufficiently far away enough from the capital for us to be gone for, say, a month. Maybe a bit more."

Katara took the paper from him and read silently. Rebel attacks, lead by a leader who'd replaced Warrior Yuhao since his death three months ago. Raids, civilian deaths, border patrol not enough to hold them off. The usual thing.

"Sounds good to me," she said.

* * *

The usual preparations were made before they left Kotzut. Food supplies gathered, personal items packed and stowed in the saddlebags of the sturdy horses they would take to the southern part of the Fire Nation. 

"Emperor's not coming this time," Lt. Ensei informed them as they performed last minute check-ups on equipment and supplies. "Business has come up and he needs to stay in the capital to deal with it personally."

_Good_, Katara thought to herself. _Now I won't have to deal with him._ She ignored the slight feeling of surprise and… disappointment?

"What happened?" Hiro asked from behind her.

"The Emperor," Lt. Ensei paused just a bit. "thinks he's found the rebel spy. A palace servant."

Katara tightened the strap on her horse's saddle, fingers clenching on the dry leather.

"For real?" asked Qin. "How did the Emperor know who it was?"

Lt. Ensei shrugged, swinging himself up into the saddle. "Not sure myself. Confidential information, you know. But hopefully he's got the real one."

"What if the servant's innocent? What if he's not the spy?" Katara inquired, mounting her own horse and nudging it out of the dim stables and into the sunlight. She squinted.

"Then he'll try to prove his innocence," The lieutenant took the lead.

"But what if he can't?" Katara insisted.

"Then he dies," Ensei said simply simply.

Something about her thoughts must have showed up on her face, because Qin drew up next to her and flashed her a tiny smile, not altogether cheery. "Better safe than sorry."

So somewhere out there, in the cells of the royal palace, there was an innocent stranger being tortured and beaten for information on a rebel group he was never affiliated with. Because he couldn't possibly be the spy. She was.

Katara knew this, and knew that the accused "spy" was an innocent. But she also knew there was nothing she could do about it.

Another casualty of war. Another sacrifice. Juiko, and now the palace servant. She was a fool to hope this would be the last one. It would never end.

* * *

A week of traveling, and they were camping tonight in the south, near a deserted village that had been the victim of the latest rebel attacks. It was spooky, queer as they'd arrived in the morning and walked through the remains of the town. Most of the villagers had fled as soon as they'd heard the news of rebels, but a few carcasses had still remained, killed by quick arrows or fine sword points. Their flesh and eyes had been long gone, picked by scavengers and vultures. 

Katara had averted her eyes when the patrol walked through the ghost town, checking for survivors or any remaining rebels. Now they were camped a distance away from the town wall, close enough so that they could still see the faint shape of the once-populated village against the dimming twilight sky.

Now it was dark; a fire had been lit and the tent set up. The horses grazed a distance away, picketed to the ground by their ropes. Hiro had taken out his Pai Sho board, a clever thing that could fold up by its hinges and stuffed into a travel bag. The small pieces were kept in a pouch.

Katara watched carefully as Hiro and Qin leaned over the board at the side of the fire, chins resting on palms and eyes studying the pieces. It was a clear night, peaceful and tranquil. Hard to believe anything could really attack them out here.

Qin raised one hand to move one of his pieces one square to the left. Lt. Ensei, observing, shook his head and pointed in the other direction.

"Right?" Qin asked, reversing his direction and sliding the piece to the right.

Hiro snapped to attention. "Hey! No cheating!"

Qin smiled. "You're just afraid of losing."

"Losing to a cheater!" Hiro put on a mock scowl. "You have no honor!"

Qin stood up from the ground with an exaggerated swagger and a mock flexing of muscles. "I'll show you honor!"

Letting out a fake war cry, Hiro launched himself at Qin and they fell to the ground. Ensei rolled his eyes and Katara smiled, continuing to polish her knife. Faozu smiled, and leaning over, switched a few of the Pai Sho pieces around on the board while Qin and Hiro were distracted.

They wrestled until Qin emerged, putting Hiro in a headlock and messing his brown hair like an affectionate older brother.

"I forfeit, I forfeit!" Hiro cried, wrenching himself away from Qin and trying in vain to smooth down his hair.

"Stop fooling around and let's finish the game," Qin panted, sitting back down on the dirt. Hiro huffed and resumed his place.

Katara smiled to herself and wondered how long it would take for them to figure out their game had been tampered with.

"I thought my lotus tile was supposed to be on the third square—"

"Shut up and stop messing around—"

"Obviously there's something wrong with your memory—"

"Did you move my monkey tile?"

"I'm not a cheater; are you calling me a cheater?"

Faozu bent his head to hide a laugh and pretended to concentrate on oiling his horse's saddle. Hiro glanced over and saw Katara's grin. "Hey! Did you move the pieces?"

"No," she laughed. "Of course I didn't!"

"You're lying!" Hiro pointed at her. "You moved them while me and Qin weren't looking!"

"I don't even know how to play!" Katara raised her hands placatingly. "Don't blame me!"

"You don't know how to play?" asked Qin.

"Come over here," Hiro motioned. "I'll teach you."

Obligingly, Katara scooted over, closer to the fire and next to Hiro. "Alright."

Qin began, pointing a finger at a tile with a flower on it. "The object of the game is to defeat your opponent with…"

Katara listened to the lesson in strategy, before she felt a faint prickling on the side of her face. Turning, she caught Hiro's eyes fixated on her. The look was too intense, too _gone_ to be just brotherly affection.

Confused, she refused to acknowledge him, and turned back to the game board before her. Eventually, she could feel his gaze slide away, slightly disappointed. Katara swallowed, all of a sudden feeling tension inside her. She liked Hiro, really. He was a wonderful friend, a good fighter. But not like… not the way he'd looked at her. No.

Pleading weariness, Katara excused herself from the game, thanking Qin for his help, and retreated to her spot next to the tent to finish polishing her equipment. Hiro looked at her curiously before she left, a lingering glance that she tried to shake off. _Please don't_.

Setting her knife aside in its sheath, Katara laid back down on the ground, looking at the dark sky full of bright stars. Maybe Sokka and Suki were looking at the same sky back in Kyoshi. Maybe Katara's niece or nephew was taking his or her first look at the stars. It sent a pang of homesickness through her. She'd been gone for so long that she had family members in Kyoshi she hadn't even met yet.

Rolling to her side, back facing the fire and her patrol mates, she gazed off into the darkness towards the demolished village. Suki might be pregnant again with a second child. With at start, Katara found that Suki's face in her memory was starting to blur. She couldn't remember the exact way her eyes had smiled, the way her hair had fallen over her shoulders.

Almost frantic in her stiff panic, Katara sought out her brother's face in her mess of a memory. His bright blue eyes and dark, tan smile was brought forth, and she almost cried out in relief. How soon before his face was lost to her as well? She wanted to go home. She _needed_ to go home.

Besides, who knew if her rendition of her family's faces was still accurate? Sokka and Suki were older now, with a child between them. They'd probably changed a lot. While she—she was Katara the Fire Empire soldier. Had she changed?

Katara shut her eyes and refused to think about it.

* * *

A loud shout and the clash of metal on metal woke Katara from a dreamless sleep. She could hear her patrol mates fumbling next to her in tent. She threw back her sleeping bag, trying to see in the darkness. 

"What's going on?" she cried, and grunted when somebody's elbow accidentally caught her in the cheek. The tent door flapped open for a second and she could glimpse Ensei's dark silhouette against the glowing remains of the campfire as he leapt out into the night.

"Qin was on watch—the rebels are attacking," Hiro gasped, grabbing his sword and his weapons, before stumbling over Katara for the tent door. She could see Faozu in the back, trying to get his shirt on before flinging it aside in frustration and buckling on his sword. "Let's go, let's go!"

Moving faster than she'd ever moved in her life, Katara squirmed out of her sleeping bag and grabbed for her own weapons, almost tripping over somebody's bag as she went for the opening of the tent, followed closely by Faozu. The first thing she noticed was the light rain that was falling around her as she braced herself for an attack.

Outside, all was chaos. There were dark moving shapes everywhere in the silvery light of the full moon. The campfire still glowed with red embers, sizzling as raindrops hit them; she could see the lieutenant engaged in a fight with a white-faced rebel.

A shining sword came out of her peripheral vision, and before she could turn to block it, Faozu had jumped ahead and was grappling with the enemy. Backing away, Katara tried to look for all her patrol members. Where was Qin? Hiro? The rebels flitted around the camp, there one moment, gone the next, too fast for her to fight hand-to-hand combat. The wet began to seep into her clothes; she barely noticed it.

Grabbing her bow and arrow from the side of the tent, Katara took off for the trees near the clearing. Clambering up the branches and flicking aside leaves dripping with rainwater, she lodged herself in the crook of the tree and drew her back a shaking hand, letting one—two—three arrows fly into the white-bright faces of her targets on the ground. She hit two; they toppled to the ground. Out of nowhere, Hiro charged at the third one who had taken an arrow in the arm.

She didn't think as she shot arrow after arrow. The rain infringed on her vision; half the time she guessed and knew she missed. Her breath shook, and her mind was numb. She did her job, and she killed anything that looked like the enemy.

Anything that looked like her people.

_Isn't this ironic_? She was here, with the Elites, for the sole purpose of saving Kyoshi and keeping them from destruction. And to do that, she had to kill Kyoshi warriors. How fucked up was this world?

Lt. Ensei ran his sword through another green-clad rebel, before pulling swiftly out and leaving his victim to fall to the ground. Red blood flashed through the air as Ensei flicked his sword, his attention already on something else.

Something happened—a silent signal exchanged between the rebels?—and all of a sudden they were fleeing, Hiro and Qin and Faozu close on their tails, towards the forest where Katara was lodged. They dashed beneath her, and as Hiro passed he looked up, gesturing for her to get down and follow them. She almost fell from the tree in her haste to get back on the ground. Lt. Ensei flashed by, shoving another sword into her hands, and they both took off after their patrol and their enemies.

"Stay together!" yelled the Lieutenant as he and Katara drew close up with Hiro and the rest. "We separate, they'll pick us off! Let's do this right—Qin in the front with me, Faozu in the middle, Katara and Hiro guarding the back."

Moving swiftly into a formation with a speed that spoke of practice and training, the patrol sped off into the darkness of the forest, following the crashing sounds of the rebels escaping. Soon her breath was coming in harsh pants, her feet pounding a steady rhythm into the ground as they raced forward, the hunted becoming the hunter. She could barely see the heads of Lt. Ensei, Qin, and Faozu ahead of her as they whipped by leaves and flickering branches. A brief flash of lightening in the sky lit up the rainy night for a split second.

Then a different sort of flash—the bare white of a warrior's face—in the bushes next to her, and she caught a glimpse of a face she recognized from her childhood. Kian, one of the three children of Warrior Yuhao, an old playmate of Sokka's. Had he learned of his father's death, and come to replace him in the rebel attacks?

Seeing Kian's face, quickly disappearing, caused the entire flood of her thoughts from earlier tonight to come back, slamming her with a wall of homesickness. Kian wouldn't have left Kyoshi that long ago—he would know how Sokka was doing, how his child was growing, how Suki was still as lively as ever, how the island was still as beautiful as she remembered in her dreams—

And before she knew it, her feet had changed course, and she was crashing into the bush after Kian, breath coming heavy, teetering on the edge of knowledge and longing. She could hear Hiro shout behind her—"Katara! Where are you going?"—but she ignored him. She ignored the fact that she was leaving her patrol behind, running off in a completely different direction. All she could do was think about seeing her brother again, her family again.

Kian must have noticed her racket behind him, because he flashed her a quick look before taking off. There was practically no light; Katara couldn't blame him for not recognizing her. All he probably saw was some upstart bastard Fire Elite, trying to take him down. He didn't see the blue eyes, the hopeful face, the tan skin.

He ran; she followed, and knew that with every step, she was getting farther and farther away from her patrol and Hiro. When she judged that she was a good distance away to keep any sound from traveling, she opened her mouth. "Kian! Kian—wait!"

He stopped, shocked, turning his white face back to look at her, one arm out with a wickedly shining sword held in hand. It pointed straight at her. Katara leaned over, breath hitching.

"How do you know my name?" Kian's voice was harsh in the stillness between them. The gulf of a childhood gone by.

"It's me—it's me, Katara," she managed to gasp out. The trees around them were silent spectators.

His sword lowered a fraction of an inch. "How do I know it's you?" But his voice was filled with grudging hope.

Tired beyond all reasoning, Katara dropped her own sword to the ground, and reaching her arms before her, drew up a tiny, wavering stream of water from the rain pooling on her skin and falling through the air around her.

"It's true," he said with a bit of wonder, his sword falling all the way to his side. He did not move closer. "Some of us—some of us thought you were dead. We heard the Fire Nation army burned a Water bender they'd found in their recruits—we thought that was you."

Katara's heart sank. "Your—your father. I was there with him when he died."

Kian visibly stiffened. "_Did you kill him_?"

Katara shook her head. "I didn't have to. He killed himself before the Elites could find him."

"An honorable death, then," Kian said, voice cold and emotionless. She knew what he meant. He would mourn his father when he wasn't in danger of being killed by Fire Elites; right now they would merely exchange information without any fuss over feelings.

"Tell me," Katara begged. "Tell me how my brother is doing. His child. Suki. Everyone."

Kian's voice was a bit kinder now, gentler. He knew what it was to be away from home for so long, fighting a war that seemed to lose more meaning day after day after day. "Sokka is fine, as is Suki. Their child—your niece—is a girl, Suyan. They're all doing very well."

"And the Mistress?"

"Still going strong," Now he sounded a bit more hesitant. "but some—some think she should abdicate and let her daughter and Sokka take over. The Mistress isn't so young anymore."

The air was so still. Katara was drenched in water now, and she could feel the coolness on her skin. "Tell my brother—tell Suki I still love them and miss them very, very much."

The water ran off of Kian's face, taking some of the paint with it. Katara wondered if those droplets hit the ground filled with white, or were they just as transparent as before?

"I will," he said. "And Katara—Kyoshi will still be there for you, when you're done with all this. You'll go home, and you'll see them all again."

A swell of happiness and utter longing rose inside her, and the water still pooled in her hands rose as well; a tiny, immaculate fountain held by her warmth. Things were good now; she had news of Kyoshi, and she could return to her patrol satisfied and confident in her role. It was so beautiful, this life—this hope.

"_Katara!_"

She spun around, the water leaving her hands and splattering to the ground, muddying the dirt at her feet.

The shocked, still face of Hiro gaped from behind her. He pointed one trembling finger at Katara. "You—you, Water bender—rebel—_I trusted you!_" His voice was almost hysterical, the screeching whine as he drew his sword from his sheath.

"No, Hiro," she held up placating hands, the same hands which had betrayed her to him with her Water bending. "Please, let me explain—believe me, it wasn't supposed to be like this—"

"I would have waited for you!" Hiro's voice was a cry of anguish and the realization that everything he had believed in was false. He raised his sword, a shining length of metal hatred. "I was going to ask—I was going to tell you—_I loved you, you traitor!_"

From the corner of her eye she could see Kian behind her, lifting an arrow to his bow, the picture of a perfect warrior, utterly confident in what he was about to do.

Katara moved, one hand outstretched as if to catch the arrow with her bare hand. "_Stop—"_

It was like a dream, a horrible nightmare she couldn't wake up from. She could see the passage of the arrow as it split apart the rainwater in its path. Her world sped up and Hiro was gasping, on the ground, clutching the wood in his chest—then she was screaming something, somebody's name, over and over again. The question, the shock, the hatred must have showed on her face as blatant as the sun to Kian.

The Kyoshi Warrior, still holding his bow rigidly, said, "I hope you understand."

And the horrible thing was that she did.

"I did it," Kian said, turning to leave, his dark green armor blending in with the trees, "So you wouldn't have to."

Then he disappeared, and Katara was left, Hiro's dying breath echoing against the ring of trees.

She crawled, on her hands and knees, to his side. Blood, dark rich red, dribbled from his mouth, and she lifted his head onto her lap, rocking back and forth, back and forth. She moved his soaking brown hair to the side, his amber-bright eyes staring up at her face in desperation.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, smoothing her hand across his forehead.

He didn't seem to hear her, caught in the throes of death. "Tell me—" he panted out, his words slurred by the diluted blood at his lips. "Tell me you loved me too—Katara—please tell me—"

He was begging, pleading with her to grant him one wish before he left this world. It was so heartbreakingly pathetic she couldn't stop the tears from coming.

She leaned over, pressing icy lips to his hot, feverish forehead and said, "I love you, Hiro."

He died, dimming gold eyes caught in the bright stars above the trees.

And Katara wondered if she was damned, that the last comfort she'd given this man before his death had been an utter and total lie.

* * *

Katara wondered what Lt. Ensei thought as the rest of the patrol came upon her with Hiro's dead body in the clearing. Her kneeling, Hiro's head in her lap, one of her hands resting on his chest next to the protruding arrow. 

There were no words to be spoken, not in this moment. Silently, Qin and Faozu moved to lift Hiro up from the ground. She sat there, unmoving. Lt. Ensei strode forward and pulled Katara up from the ground, his hand an iron grip on her arm.

Katara didn't know how they eventually made it back to the campsite. Obviously the rest of her patrol had dealt with the rebels accordingly before coming back to look for her and Hiro. When they finally arrived, Qin kicked aside a rebel body still lying next to the fire before he and Faozu gently set Hiro down on the ground.

"You two," Lt. Ensei said curtly. "Clean up the camp. I need to talk to Katara."

Qin and Faozu obeyed silently. Lt. Ensei, gesturing shortly to Katara, strode from the light of the campfire to the far side of the tent. She followed, head bowed.

The lieutenant stopped a short distance away from camp. Katara stood before him, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Look at me," he snapped.

She obeyed, and it was hard to keep her own eyes from sliding away to gaze at the unassuming dark trees of the forest.

"What did you do," Lt. Ensei said, eyes hard as flint. "Tell me what you did."

"I screwed up."

"No," said the lieutenant.

Katara looked up, flashing him a confused glance. "Wha—?"

"You _fucked_ up." Lt. Ensei said.

Katara stood there, silent.

"Because of your stupid little glory-hunt, traipsing off into the woods like you were going to find and tackle a rebel all by yourself, Hiro is dead," Lt. Ensei's voice was harsh, grating on the ears. "You deliberately left the patrol to play the hero, and Hiro followed you because he wanted to help you and make sure you didn't get hurt. And what is he repaid with? Death."

"I didn't mean for him to die—" Her voice was a whisper, quickly drowned out by her commanding officer's anger.

"I don't care what you fucking didn't mean to do! What I care about is the fact that Hiro is _dead_, because of your idiocy and arrogance. I specifically told you to stay with the group, to help bring up the back, but you deliberately disobeyed my orders and got somebody killed!"

"You think I don't feel guilty?" Katara yelled back, trying to keep the tears from coming again. If she was angry, then she wouldn't have to be sad. "You think I don't know that Hiro's death is my fault?"

"Guilt won't bring him back," Lt. Ensei said calmly. "If you're sorry about it until the day you die, Hiro won't come back."

"I know."

Lt. Ensei ran a hand through his light hair. It was the first sign of absolute frustration from him that she'd seen all night. "I know you know."

For a hysterical second, Katara thought of the silly games she'd played with Sokka back when they were children. _I know you know. I know you know I know. I know you know I know you know_. It was so hilarious she had to choke back a laugh. Lt. Ensei looked up, and took it as a choked sob.

"You disobeyed your commander, thereby indirectly causing the death of a fellow soldier," Lt. Ensei said, voice neutral and matter-of-fact. "It's up to the Emperor to decided what to do with you, when we get back to Kotzut."

Katara nodded. If she was lucky, she'd be able to stay in the Elites. If she was unlucky… she'd soon be out on the streets of Kotzut, a miserable failure without a job. But no job would be the least of her worries. She'd go back to Kyoshi, and everyone would know what had happened, that she'd ruined her people's one chance of survival.

"Now tell me what happened," Lt. Ensei said. "And the truth. I don't want fucking little sissy lines like 'I didn't see the arrow coming' or 'I had no idea the rebel was going to shoot'. Give the real truth."

_I'll give you the truth all right_. "I left the patrol," Katara swallowed. "Disobeyed your orders. I saw a rebel and I thought I could take him by myself. So I ran after him and I guess Hiro followed me. Then the rebel turned around to shoot me, but Hiro caught it in the chest instead."

Lt. Ensei's eyes were hard, probing. She looked him straight in the face.

"Get back to the camp," Lt. Ensei said. "It'll be your job to take care of Hiro's body until we get back to Kotzut. He will have a proper Elite's burial, not be left in some strange countryside for the vultures to pick over. He is your responsibility now."

Katara nodded. Hiro deserved more than a respectable burial. He deserved somebody who loved him.

But it was so hard to love a dead man.

* * *

Slowly, Katara poked another stick into the camp fire. Her fellow soldiers were asleep in the tent; she could hear Faozu's quiet snoring. She stayed outside, sitting between the fire and Hiro's body, keeping a vigil. It was unnecessary—nowhere did any rituals or traditions dictate that she had to do this. But she felt it was her duty, as his indirect murderer. She would stay with him this night, to protect him as well as she could, the way she hadn't when he was alive.

The fire blazed merrily, so at odds with her mood. She fed more wood into it, building it higher and higher. It was so dangerous, feeding the fire. But it quickly became addicting, feeling the heat on her face and the danger so close to her bones.

Maybe one day, if she ever went back to Kyoshi, she would see Kian again. And she would scream at him, beat him with her fists, pour out all of her hatred and regret, in front of a whole crowd of shocked villagers.

Then she would thank him.

_I did it, so you wouldn't have to_.

By killing Hiro, Kian had done the kindest thing he possibly could have in that situation. On one cold, emotionless level, Katara could think of it rationally. She could not have continued to let Hiro live after he had seen her Water bending, heard her talk to Kian like a Kyoshi rebel. Hiro had found her out, found out her ugly truth. His death had been a necessity. He would have jeopardized her entire mission.

But from the pain in her chest, the dried tears on her cheek, the aching guilt in her mind, she knew she wouldn't have been able to kill him, in the moment when it had really mattered.

Kian had saved Katara from that. Saved her from killing her friend, the one who had loved her. He had seen her hesitate, seen her beg Hiro to understand, seen how she was weak and soft and a _coward_. Kian was a warrior—he had done what had needed to be done.

Something Katara would never have been able to do.

_I'm not a warrior. And I never will be._

Picking up another stick, Katara broke it again, and again into a hundred, a thousand, a billion pieces, the shredded wood scratching her skin and drawing blood from under her nails. She threw it into the fire, and watched it all go up in flames.

* * *

**A/N: **I had this chapter planned from the get-go. It's a catalyst for a lot of stuff coming up. As for the game of Pai Sho... I knew there was a lotus tile, from The Waterbending Scroll, but the monkey tile I made up. XD 

I'm glad everybody liked that Zhao came back! He is the absolute funnest character to write. So twisted and malevolent and sneaky. I could write a billion fics about him, he's that great.

**I am now officially a LTE groupie! –several reviewers**  
You guys made my day.

**And post your livejournal name so I can visit you! --outsane**  
It's in the profile, m'dear. XD My "homepage" or whatever it's called.

**Though I wouldn't necessarily think of Zhao is all-that charismatic or smooth-talking, I suppose an arguement could be made for it, seeing as he made his way fro Captain to Commander to Admiral within 2 years –Red Hawk K'sani**  
Exactly my thinking. Okay, my chronology might be wrong, but in Episode 3 is where we meet him, and when Zuko sees him, he says "Captain Zhao." But Zhao corrects him by saying "I'm _Commander_ Zhao now." And then by The Blue Spirit Episode, we learn that Zhao's been promoted to Admiral! He's scaling that promotional ladder pretty fast, me thinks. Sneaky and smooth and charismatic is him. Not to mention intelligent.

**Gladdecease—**You are amazing. You pick up all the subtle hints and foreshadowing and underlying currents that I try to leave in here. Jeez. I bet you can read my mind as well.

**why would Zuko be really mean to Katara on day and then try and protect her another:S –ditz4lyf**  
In my mind, Zuko was not protecting Katara when he punched Borr in the face. Remember what Borr said to Zuko when Zuko arrived? Borr had insulted Zuko as well—Zuko was protecting his own honor and pride. Maybe I didn't get that across so great.


	14. Repercussions

**Chapter 14: Repercussions**

The mornings were always very busy when you were the ruler of an Empire. People thought you had more time because servants did most of the work, but that was incorrect.

Zuko woke up before dawn, and had a small breakfast with his uncle and one of his advisors, who went over much of his day's schedule. Meetings with nobles, governors, people who owed him money, tax collectors, trade officials… the list went on. Every spare minute of his day was filled by discussion with someone or other who needed his attention, and always _urgently_.

But he was good at it. This was what his uncle had trained him to do, from the moment he was born. He excelled at being the monarch of his country, unlike his father, and grandfather, and great-grandfather.

In fact, every single Fire Lord after the first Zuko had been total fools, slobs who didn't care or didn't want the responsibility of being king. Their duties were always shoved off to various advisors or generals who inevitably ended up abusing power. The queens hadn't been much better; drained women tired of dealing with their husbands and lived only long enough to bear the requisite male son as heir. Only the aides and truly helpful nobles of the court had kept the Empire from falling apart in those days.

People whispered rumors and tried to explain their lack of strong Fire Lords. Ever since that Water bender girl had borne a son to the first Zuko, the subsequent rulers had been stupid, incompetent. The true fire of the royal blood had been diluted; doused of its potency, they said. Mixing of the blood always proved to be disastrous. It was a curse, proved by the scar that marked the eldest son of every generation of the royal family.

However, while Zuko II's own mother had been pregnant, a prophecy had been made. This soon-to-be born son of the Fire Empire would be a great ruler, the one destined to fulfill his great ancestor's legacy and end the constant war against the rebels.

When Zuko had been born, Iroh had made it his life's work to educate his nephew, the Empire's last hope. Soon after the infant's birth, both father and mother had died of sickness. Iroh ruled as regent, relinquishing more and more power to Zuko as the boy grew and became more confident in his position as the Empire's next Fire Emperor.

Scraping his knife against his plate, the Emperor, powerful Fire bender, ruler of the world, possessor of extreme wealth, and resident teenage boy, tried to keep his attention on the droning voice of the advisor, who was updating him on the latest property taxes concerning the newly acquired land in the Earth kingdom, now the Earth province.

His uncle gave him a look, and Zuko sighed before putting his knife down.

"Blah blah blah, blabbity blabbity blah," said the advisor.

Zuko nodded.

"Blah babbity blah. And oh yes, blah blah bla_blibbity_ blah," the advisor continued.

Zuko made an agreeable noise.

"Blabbity blabbity blah blah blah," said the advisor. "And what do you suggest we do about the recent revolt of Earth bender slaves in the south?"

"Huh?"

Iroh gave him another look. Zuko sighed, leaned forward over his plate, and rubbed his face with his hands. "I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question again?"

The advisor, looking quite put out, repeated his question and Zuko sat back before answering. "Send another regiment of troops down there. Capture the Earth benders and put them back in their places. Punish a few to get the message across. The usual."

Iroh nodded, showing his agreement. This sort of thing was almost regulation, it happened so often. When he had first dealt with this kind of situation, Zuko had been worried about hurting people in the process of controlling them. However, as the years passed, he thought less of them as humans and more of them as a nuisance. There was always some young upstart in Earth bender quarters who wanted to break free from the tyrannical Fire Empire rule, but none of them made it as far as getting a few of their rash friends killed and thrown back in the slave camps.

Zuko wished they would stop with this freedom nonsense. It got so obnoxious after awhile. Were they just stupid? They had to know that rebellion would never work; hundreds before them had tried, and failed.

He rubbed his forehead again. Except for those Kyoshi Islanders. Somehow, that tiny lump of rock in the ocean had managed to stay free from Fire Empire rule. His ancestor, Zuko I, hadn't even bothered trying to subdue them. A mistake, surely. Just like his insane obsession for that Water tribe girl, Zuko II's own great-great-grandmother.

Now he had to deal with the consequences of those mistakes. Damn it all.

"You feeling alright, Zuko?" his uncle asked.

"Fine, fine," Zuko replied. "Please," he gestured towards the advisor, looking more annoyed than ever. "Please continue."

"Nothing more for today," the advisor said stiffly, before bowing himself out.

It was quiet as Iroh sipped his tea and Zuko sat at the table, trying to keep himself awake. It wasn't even light outside yet. He seemed to have less and less sleep every night. Too many things to do, not enough time in the day. Night hours were so wasted with sleep. He could be doing things, giving orders. He hadn't counted on the constant weariness and need for rest. Oh well. This was the life of the most powerful man in the world.

"Lt. Ensei's patrol is due back today," Iroh said calmly, setting his tea cup down on the table.

This caught Zuko's attention. "What?" he said. "I thought they were going to be gone longer than that." That Lt. Sakai was still flaming mad at Katara for Borr's injuries.

"Something came up," said Iroh. "A message arrived earlier."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I thought you needed your sleep."

Zuko sighed. "What did the message say?"

"Nothing important," mused Iroh. "Just a small note saying that they were heading back because something had happened, and Ensei would explain when he arrived."

Zuko brushed it from his mind. Probably Ensei and his patrol had taken care of those rebels quicker than usual. And Katara… how was Katara doing? He hadn't spoken to her since that night at Adia's banquet, when he had blown a fuse over the painting and the dress. He sort of regretted that now. His temper always went ahead of his common sense. She probably thought him a stupid, rash teenager unable to rule a country.

He stiffened. What did it matter to him what she thought he was? She was another soldier in his massive army; nothing more.

"I'm sure she'll be alright, Zuko," said his uncle.

"What?" he snapped.

"That Elite girl," said Iroh, a tranquil look on his face as he sipped his tea again.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zuko said, sliding back his chair with more force than necessary, and standing up. "I have things to do. I'll see you later, uncle."

Iroh looked on as Zuko left the room, and there was a small smile on the old man's lips.

* * *

Zuko was in his study near the end of the afternoon, looking over documents and signing the ones he found legit and worth his time. Some concerned valid complaints or requests, others were preposterous and utterly foolish. Most of them were reports from various generals or commanders updating him on the status of keeping the borders safe and getting rid of those rebels. Rebel movement was increasing lately, and this was another worry to add to Zuko's already long list. 

A knock on the door sounded throughout the silent room, and Zuko stopped shuffling the papers and said, "Come in."

A nervous-looking guard poked his head around the door, and made a quick head bob for a respectful bow. "There's Elites here to see you, your Majesty."

Probably Ensei back from the south come to report to him. Zuko nodded his head and told the soldier to show them in.

Lt. Ensei strode into the study purposefully, uncaring of decorum or tradition or any sort of formalities other people might have observed in the presence of the Emperor. However, Zuko was surprised when he saw who the second Elite was. Katara.

Her head was lowered, hands tight at her sides, following behind Ensei like a shadow.

Ensei's expression was one of controlled tension, while Zuko couldn't even see Katara's face.

Something had happened.

"What?" he said. Ensei would know how to answer.

Placing one hand on Katara's shoulder, the lieutenant pushed her forward. She almost stumbled, catching herself before impacting with Zuko's desk. He stared.

"Sit," said Zuko, motioning towards the chairs. He could tell by the looks on their faces that this was going to be one long discussion. Obviously something had gone wrong on this mission. They weren't back here because they'd finished off the rebels in record time. They were back here for something else.

Ensei wasted no time. "One of my patrol members is dead."

Zuko said nothing, and waited for Ensei to continue.

"Dead, because of her," said the lieutenant, a tight jerk of the head towards Katara. She was still looking down at her lap, refusing to make eye contact with anybody in the room.

Zuko stared at her. "Explain yourself."

"I didn't mean to do it," her voice was barely a whisper.

"Speak up," Zuko commanded.

"I said I didn't mean to do it," Katara said, voice harsh in its increasing volume.

"Didn't mean to kill your fellow soldier?" asked Zuko, his eyes sharpening on her bent figure. "What happened?"

"Glory went to her head," said Ensei, cutting in. "Decided she was big enough to take down a rebel on her own. She ran off, deliberately disobeying my orders to stay together, and Hiro tried to help her by following her. He got shot by a rebel instead."

So it was Hiro who was the dead soldier. Zuko could vaguely remember a smiling young man in Ensei's patrol. Had he and Katara been close?

Now Zuko wasn't sure what his reaction should be. Was he supposed to be mad? Stomp around the room, shout at Katara and scream at Ensei? What was he supposed to do in this situation? Obviously Ensei had brought Katara to him for a reason. He felt remorse for the fact that this Hiro man had died, and was curious as to how Katara was dealing with it.

"Disobeying your commanding officer," Zuko began, "and causing the death of a fellow soldier. That kind of thing gets you kicked out from the Elites."

Katara nodded, head shadowed and bent. He was quickly becoming annoyed at how he couldn't see her face, couldn't gauge her reaction. Shouldn't she be begging him to stay in the Elites?

"In fact, that may be the best thing I could do," said Zuko, eyes narrowing. "If you're a danger to your comrades, then I can't allow you to stay. You've already disobeyed Lt. Ensei, and indirectly killed somebody. You'll have to go."

"Please don't."

Finally. A reaction from her. "Then what do you propose I do? Let you off with a slap on the wrist and a little scolding?"

"Anything but kicking me out," she said, and raised her head to look him in the eye. He was a bit taken aback at the intensity of her expression. She wasn't crying or sniveling, although there were dark circles underneath her eyes. She just looked serious. "I don't care if you have to publicly humiliate me or make me clean out every barracks in the army complex, but I need to stay."

"You mean you want to stay."

"I need to."

They looked at each other over Zuko's messy, paper-strewn desk. Ensei had been silent during this exchange, but finally spoke up. "Zuko, don't kick her out. I've already lost one member of my team. What I don't need is two new recruits to fill up the empty spaces Katara and Hiro will leave behind. It's hard, getting recruits to adjust and fit with the original team."

Katara turned to look at Ensei, her face surprised at his sudden defense of her.

"That doesn't mean we're going to let you off easy, though," Ensei continued darkly. "Although the patrol still needs you, we are short one member _because_ of you."

Katara flinched visibly, and Zuko was reminded of how well she had concealed her guilt and emotions before.

"What I still don't understand is why you ran after that rebel by yourself," Zuko said.

Katara shrugged, a slight lifting of her shoulders. "Like Lt. Ensei said. I got overconfident."

Her admission was so smooth, so grudge-free, so _ready_, that Zuko thought it strange. But he knew that no matter how hard he pressed, she probably wasn't going to give him any other reason.

"Ensei," said Zuko, turning to the other man. "I need to speak to you in private. Katara, you're dismissed."

Katara stood up, seemingly fine with this turn of events. Lt. Ensei turned to glare at her. "Wait outside. Don't go anywhere. We haven't finished deciding your punishment yet."

She left, closing the door behind her.

Ensei sighed, letting his previously angry mask drop from his face. He looked tired, very tired.

"What, Zuko?"

* * *

Katara leaned against the wall outside the Emperor's study room, and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to go back to the army complex, take a hot shower, and fall into bed. There were too many things she didn't want to deal with. 

"... I don't believe what she said about overconfidence..." Voices drifted through the doors, and Katara crept closer. They were talking about her. Eavesdropping was a necessity.

"... well what excuse would you have? That she went after the rebel to ask him to dinner?"

"You know her. Would she disobey you like that for something as little as a moment of glory?"

"Glory, Zuko. Men have died for less."

"She's not a man. Maybe she feels the need to prove herself because of that."

"You don't know her. And she's proved herself enough already with Borr."

"Do you trust her?"

A heartbeat of silence. And then, "I trust all the soldiers in my patrol. I need to, when I depend on them to watch out for me in the middle of a battle. I trust them to use their good judgment and follow my orders and keep an eye on each other."

"She obviously didn't use her judgment, and she obviously didn't follow your orders. How's that for trust?"

"What are you implying?"

Katara swallowed hard, ear pressed to the door. What was the Emperor implying about her?

"Nothing, Ensei. Nothing." She heard a rustle of movement and then a sigh. "I have no idea what I'm thinking. No time to think. What should we do with her?"

Ensei's voice was gentler now, more understanding. "Some kind of duty work I guess. Mandatory hours in the hospital? Cleaning the kitchens?"

"How does cleaning the kitchens make up for a man's death?"

Now Ensei sounded angry. "Why the hell are you asking me that, Zuko? I'm just trying to think of some suggestions here! Don't ask me what justifies Hiro's death. I don't fucking know."

"Sorry, sorry." Zuko's voice was tired, apologetic. "I didn't mean... I wasn't thinking, again."

"Alright. Hospital duty and kitchen cleaning for her it is." Katara heard something else. Ensei must have sat down heavily in his chair.

"People are gonna think you let her off easy, Zuko. Then they'll question why."

The Emperor's voice was frustrated; weary. "They can go to hell."

Ensei laughed, dryly. "And before that, they'll make _your_ life a living hell."

Rising from the ground, Katara turned and left. She had heard enough. She didn't want to wait for Ensei anymore. She didn't want to hear them talking about her anymore. She wanted a good sleep. And she wasn't going to get that on the cold marble floor of the palace.

* * *

The next morning, Katara sleepily reported in to the head doctor in the hospital building. 

"You that Elite I'm supposed to babysit?" The doctor looked skeptical and annoyed.

Katara nodded.

"What did you do? Drank too much and mouthed off to your superiors?"

"Something like that," mumbled Katara, unwilling to explain the real reason why she was here. Ensei had woken her up that morning, a blow to the shoulder, and told her she was going to be working the hospital until further notice. No time off with the rest of the patrol, no trips into the city. They both knew she had been let off easy. Whether Ensei had had a hand in that, Katara wasn't so sure.

The doctor sighed. "I know you gung-ho Elites. You're going to be more trouble than help around here."

"I'll try my best," Katara muttered.

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll have Kaz show you around." Turning, he snapped his fingers at the back, where Kaz was bent over a patient. "Kaz! Come over here."

Kaz finished his work and slowly walked over, wiping his hands with a cloth stained pink with blood. Katara eyed it dubiously. "Yes, Doctor?"

The doctor jerked his head at Katara before moving off. "This is Katara. It's your job to teach her how to do the simple things and make sure she doesn't kill anybody."

"But Gian still needs his bandage changed-"

"She'll help you with that," the head doctor interrupted Kaz. "Just- just keep her out of the way."

"Fine," Kaz grumbled, then turned to Katara as the doctor left. "No offense to you. It's just that I'm the new guy, so I get all the worst jobs."

Katara smiled. "I understand."

Kaz sighed, then gestured for her to follow him. "I need to finish up with Gian. You can help. You do know how to change a bandage, right?"

"A little. Stuff I learned on missions."

Gian lay on a bed in the back of the main hospital room. He groaned as Kaz approached and gently slid an arm underneath his back, lifting him from the sheets. "Now, Katara, unwind his bandages. Quickly, but be gentle."

Bending over, Katara found the end of the long strip of cloth and began to unwind it from Gian's trembling torso. A putrid stench filled the air, and Katara tried to avoid touching the discoloring flesh and pus that seeped onto the bandage from Gian's body. Swallowing hard in an attempt to keep her breakfast down, she finally unwrappd the gross bandage and slipped it into the trash bag.

"Now you hold him while I clean him," said Kaz, and Katara moved to hold up Kian. The man was big, but weak and had lost a lot of weight from his injury. He was barely conscious.

"How long has he been here?" asked Katara as Kaz calmly took out a small jar of some kind of cleansing salve and a clean cloth. He began to gently wipe down the ugly, seeping gash that ran from Gian's shoulder to his lower abdomen.

"About two weeks," said Kaz, eyes intent on his job. "and his fever should have broken days ago. He's not healing as fast as I would like him to. The wound refuses to close, even if we try to sew it up. I think there might have been poison on the rebel's sword, the one who caused this," Kaz said, indicating the injury. "All we can really do now is try to keep it clean and hope Gian has the will to live."

Gian shook violently in Katara's arms, and she struggled to keep a firm hold on him as Kaz almost dropped his jar. The injured man cried out, mumbling incoherent things punctured by angry obscenities, and at the end, a woman's name in a pathetic, pleading tone of voice. His eyes flew open, and locked on Katara's face, whispering, "Inai, wait for me. Wait for me." Giving a final shudder, his head lolled to the side.

Katara gingerly kept him upright as Kaz sighed and continued sponging the wound. "He does that every once in awhile. A seizure, and hallucinations where he keeps talking to someone named Inai. His lover, maybe. A sweetheart."

"Maybe his daughter," Katara added, desperate to say something to add to the silence.

Kaz shook his head. "Gian is only seventeen."

Katara was surprised, but tried not to show it. With the pasty-yellow color on Gian's face, the cold sweat, the two month's growth of stubble on his face, it was hard to determine any sort of specific age. In fact, he looked decades older, the fever and sickness having taken away so much of his youth.

"Okay I'm done," Kaz said, and Katara tried to lower Gian as gently as she could back onto the bad, where she covered him with the hospital blanket.

This was how the rest of her day proceeded. Following Kaz around the hospital room, helping him take care of the patients. Occasionally some of the wounded were awake enough to carry on a small conversatoin, where Kaz introduced her to them.

It was incredibly tiring. By the end of the day, Katara's head was ringing with the pained moans and harsh screams of feverish men. How did Kaz stand it all day? He was the epitome of perfect calm, his first priority the health of every patient.

She stumbled back to the barracks of Patrol One, and ignored the drunken revelings of Qin and Faozu. She felt the incredible abscence of Hiro. He was supposed to be here, laughing and slapping her back and telling dirty jokes. He was supposed to be snoring his way to dreamland in the bunk across from her.

Leaning against the doorframe, the calm, serious eyes of Lt. Ensei watched her. Katara ignored him too, and managed to crawl onto her bunk and collapse into bed.

In the brief seconds before sleep, Katara wondered silently if Inai still loved Gian, and whether she was worried for him.

* * *

The next morning they had Hiro's funeral. 

Katara stood in the silent crowd, filled with other Elites who'd known Hiro. Family members were at the front, next to the pyre where his body rested.

Speeches were made, great compliments paid to the family for having produced such a good, quality soldier to serve the Fire Empire. Katara could see Hiro's brother, an older, harsher version of the young man she'd known. He stood there with his wife, two small children who constantly fidgeted, and an old woman who's bent-over body was wracked with sobs. Hiro's mother, then.

Katara averted her eyes from the mother's weeping figure, and turned to the still body on the high stack of wood. Hiro's eyes were closed, and he was dressed in his uniform. Lt. Ensei stepped forward, said a few words Katara didn't catch, and presented some kind of medal to Hiro's family. Hiro's brother took it and nodded his head stiffly in thanks. His eyes were hard; so unlike his cheerful, enthusiastic younger brother.

Then the Emperor came forward, offered his respects to the grieving family, and with a beautifully controlled burst of fire, sent Hiro's body to the afterlife. The flames quickly crept up the wood, until the sickly smell of smoke mixed in with burning flesh drifted through the air. Katara was vividly reminded of the day Juiko had been executed; except that hadn't been a respected, proper funeral like Hiro's. Juiko had had a criminal's death; a death fitting for a traitor.

Cremation was the way of the Fire Empire. The ashes would be put in an urn and given to the family. Hiro's name would be noted in the Elite archives as having served and died protecting his country.

_You died for a traitor._

_

* * *

_For the rest of the week, Katara spent majority of her time in the hospital, leaving only to get herself and Kaz some food from the mess hall. While Kaz was away at training, or being taught a new medical technique by an older doctor, she took her meals alone, next to Gian's bed.

She wasn't sure when she'd started to do this, but while eating her lunch and keeping an eye on nearby patients, she began to talk to him. She took special care to change his bandages more than usual, in order to keep his injury as clean as possible. In his brief moments of consciousness, he was confused as to his location and who she was, and most importantly, where Inai was. Katara tried to answer as truthfully as she could, although when it came to Gian's mystery woman, she didn't know what to say.

On the fourth day of her work in the hospital, Katara slowly ate her food, taking a break from the usually hectic activity in the hospital. Majority of the healers and doctors were taking a break, and Kaz was gone, with another doctor to learn lessons. He was still in the midst of training to become a full-fledged healer.

A clatter against the bed next to her made Katara drop her plate, food splattering all over the floor. Gian was rigid on the bed, eyes fixated with an intensity on the ceiling, arms and legs trembling out of control. He began to thrash in the throes of a hallucination, screaming and waking other patients nearby.

Grimacing, Katara forgot her lunch and leapt up from her chair to restrain Gian. His seizures and feverish visions were almost routine to her now, but this one was a particularly violent one.

Trying to push down his shoulders, Katara forced Gian back onto the bed, and cursed vehemently when she spotted the tell-tale red stain as his wound reopened from his movements. "Damn it."

She held Gian down, pressing his neck and collarbones with one forearm, straining against his thrashing, and with the other arm tried to unwrap the bandages. Maybe if she cleaned his injury, got that healing salve of Kaz's into the wound, Gian would calm down. Gritting her teeth, Katara ripped the stained, old bandage off, and her ears teared at the stench. It wasn't getting any better. How much longer would Gian be able to survive?

His arm twitched, and he shouted out, "Inai! Inai! You promised me!" Gian's arm knocked over the pitcher of water Katara had been drinking from, and it broke against the bedpost, water spilling out over his body and the bedsheets.

"Oh no," Katara let go and tried with both hands to wipe up the water. Who knew what sort of impure things were in there? That water was contaminated; if it got in the wound, it might make Gian's injury much worse. "Shit. Kaz, where the hell are you when I need you?"

She could see the water seeping into the angry, pus-filled gash on Gian's torso. Desperate tears began to drop from her eyes. Damn. All her work would go to waste; she'd tried _so hard _keep Gian alive these last few days—if he died, it'd be her fault, just like Hiro's death had been her fault—and she couldn't forget Hiro, she couldn't forget him when every night in her sleep she relived his death and if Gian died no, NO—

Her trembling hands pressed down, wild, on Gian's water-drenched torso, and he bucked. Something caught hold inside Katara and her hands were stuck, the water drenching her skin and his skin and she was draining, draining everything away into Gian's tired body, so close to death. Her hands were almost gone, she couldn't see her own dark skin against the strange things happening to the water—

It drained away, the water, dissolving into Gian's skin and Katara raised her hands from his body.

New skin, pale and slightly pink, covered his torso. There was no trace of the ugly, disgusting sword-wound from before.

"Shit," said Katara.

Almost as if in answer to her cursing, Gian mumbled something incoherent, his arms relaxed and limp, before turning over to face the wall and began to snore. His breathing was deep and even. Katara felt his forehead. The fever was gone. The coolness of his skin under her hand was like heaven.

_Impossible._ She was hallucinating. She'd caught some form of rare disease from one of these patients and she was seeing things that couldn't happen. Not to her. Hand trembling, she reached out and lifted Gian's blanket, examining his body again. Perfectly healed, except for the slightest scarring from his shoulder to his stomach. She let go of the sheet; it drifted down to cover his calmly sleeping body.

Katara, on the other hand, was not in such a tranquil state. Her breath came faster, and all of a sudden she felt a sudden dizziness behind her eyes. Her hands felt sore; achy. Slumping to the ground next to Gian's bed, she leaned her head against the mattress and told herself she could rest for one second—just one quick second...

* * *

When Katara woke up, she was staring at the blank white ceiling of the hospital. There was a soft mattress underneath her; she was on a bed. 

"Feeling better?" asked Kaz, scooting over on a chair next to her.

"What happened?"

Kaz shrugged. "I came in here after my lesson with Doctor Wei, and I found you out cold on the floor. Did you sleep enough last night?"

"Oh, I've just been feeling a little tired lately," she lied. "That must be why I passed out."

"Must be. You seem fine to me; just get more rest."

Katara sat up and swung her legs over the side. "I'm okay."

Kaz nodded. "Did you check on Gian yet today? I know you're worried about him."

"Uh—yeah, he seems to be doing a lot better. I haven't changed his bandage yet."

"Really? He's improving?"

Katara nodded nervously. "Yeah, I think his fever's gone down."

Interested, Kaz moved towards Gian's bed. "You know I haven't checked on him in awhile; you've been caring for him more than anyone else, Katara."

Lifting aside the sheet, Kaz gasped in surprise. "What the hell?"

Behind him, Katara swallowed. "What's wrong? Is he okay?" She hoped she sounded convincing.

Kaz shook his head in disbelief. "Better than okay—Katara, he's healed!"

"You're kidding me," Katara said, moving to his side. She widened her eyes and gasped, covering her mouth with one hand as she saw the new skin on Gian's torso. "Holy shit!"

"Holy shit is right," Kaz muttered. "When was the last time you changed his bandage? Didn't you notice anything?"

Katara stumbled. "Uh—I changed the bandage maybe two days ago, but when I did, I used a lot more of that salve you keep in the jar. I thought it might help."

Kaz turned to her, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "Yes! I made that cream myself! I knew it would work, when I finally got the right ingredients. I can't wait to tell Doctor Wei—oh all the other new healers will be so jealous of me."

Katara nodded quickly. "Congratulations, Kaz."

"It's great that Gian is better," Kaz said, eyes still filled with wonderment and the soldier's quick recovery. "This is amazing. I can't believe it."

"Me neither," Katara said, voice hoarse. She passed it off as a small cough, turning to take a drink of water. Kaz didn't notice, still caught up in his imagined success.

"Kaz—I'm still feeling a bit dizzy from earlier—if you don't mind, I'll be heading back now—" Katara said, and Kaz nodded, barely acknowledging her.

"Yes, yes. You go right ahead, tell your lieutenant I said you could go back early today—I gotta show Doctor Wei what's happened—"

Katara left the hospital in a hurry, and tried to banish the guilt of having given Kaz false hope.

* * *

"Zuko!" a voice called to him from the edge of the training arena inside the palace. 

Slightly annoyed, Zuko turned from the advanced drills he had been practicing, leaving the fire to shoot off into nothingness. When he saw that it was his uncle, his angry retort faded. Iroh would interrupt his training only if there was something important.

"Yes, uncle?" said Zuko, hurrying to Iroh's side while trying to shrug on his vest.

Iroh handed him a crumpled piece of paper, eyes worried. "One of the servants cleaning out the officer's quarters in the army complex found this, and brought it to me."

Snatching the parchment away, Zuko studied it intently.

_Admiral-_

_The messenger and information will be at Luxing Fort in three day's time. Meet him there, or forfeit this oppurtunity.  
_

_The Emperor will be taken care of. __We already have an assassin in place for that, as you well know. _

_Remember our agreement. You keep the Fire throne, but leave Kyoshi alone. Otherwise, the deal is off._

Zuko noticed that his heart rate had increased significantly in the past thirty seconds. His hands clenched the paper, almost ripping it.

"Your life is in danger, Zuko," came the soft voice of his uncle.

"Don't think I don't know that!" Zuko snapped back, breath coming heavy. How dare this traitor. How dare a loyal citizen, an _admiral_ of the Fire Empire navy consort with rebels? For certainly this letter was from one of those Kyoshi bastards, although it was unsigned. The last line had made that perfectly clear.

And an assassin. He felt a prickle on his neck, and he resisted the extreme urge to whip around and immediately check the entire room for signs of anybody else other than his uncle and himself. They were sending an assassin after him. What more could go wrong?

"They'll be at the Luxing Fort in three day's time, Zuko, this admiral and this rebel messenger," said Iroh calmly. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Who did this, uncle?" Zuko fisted the paper and waved it in Iroh's face. The tranquil eyes of his uncle stared back at him. "What kind of asshole would betray his own country? Would try to take my place as Emperor, my _birthright_?"

Iroh said nothing. He trusted Zuko to figure things out for himself.

Zuko's eyes widened as it hit him.

Iroh saw this too. "You can't prove anything without evidence—"

"Isn't this enough evidence?" Zuko uncrumpled the paper and read over it almost feverishly again. "How could this not condemn Admiral Zhao? All the information is here, everything I need to get him executed as a traitor!"

"There are more admirals than Zhao in the Fire navy, nephew. Anyone of them could have been the recipient of such a letter—"

"Who is more ambitious than Zhao? Who would try such a thing, who would stoop so _low_ as to conspire with a rebel for my death?"

"No rash actions, Zuko," said Iroh. "I suggest you follow through with this letter, and figure things out before bringing it to the public. Make sure the information is correct."

"Yes," said Zuko, eyes already far away and mind planning ahead. "I'll go myself. I'll find this admiral, and make him pay for what he's done—"

"Zuko, be careful. Remember the assassin."

"I know, uncle," Zuko made a dismissive motion. "I won't go alone. I'll take one of the Elite patrols with me."

Iroh watched as his nephew, his almost-son, race out of the room, blood fired with a purpose and with a righteous anger. He sighed, and shuffled back to his room.

"I'm going to be needing a lot of tea tonight."

* * *

Katara was getting ready for bed, listening to the quiet murmurings and shufflings of her fellow Elites as everyone yawned and settled in. Nothing had changed in this whole week, except— 

The bunk across from her was now occupied.

Lt. Ensei had moved quickly and made a request for another Elite to transfer into Patrol One. Oran had volunteered, that young man who Katara had known in the early days before they, along with Hiro and Borr, had been accepted into the Elites for good. He was as quiet as ever, a serious, somber presence in their room. He would never replace Hiro, Katara thought vehemently, but it was good that their Patrol had the requisite number again.

Just as she was about to lay her head down on her pillow, the door crashed open.

Katara sat upright in surprise, and Qin said, "What the hell—"

It was the Emperor standing in the doorway.

Lt. Ensei looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong?"

The Emperor held up a piece of paper. "I've found the traitor."

Katara froze.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, I saw the newest episode, and yes, I decided to incorporate Katara's interesting new ability into this chapter. If you haven't seen the new episode, I'm sorry for sort of spoiling it. 

Also, there's been a WHOLE bunch of new fanart that I recieved and remembered to post in my profile. Thank you to everybody who contributed.

One more thing: a lot of you reviewed and said that the whole Hiro-loving-Katara thing was unexpected and I agree. I should have put more hints or warning in earlier chapters, and it is completely my fault that I sort of sprung it on you like that. Kind of like how "The Fortuneteller" episode sprung all that crazy Kataang action on us. Again, I apologize. That was a bit of bad writing from myself. Will try not to do it again.

**Where do you live? -kara**  
Seattle, WA, USA, Earth, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy, Local Group of Galaxies, Universe, Fairy Land.

**Oh, have you seen that new episode about Aang liking Katara? I seriously hope that it stays onesided or that Aang gives it up as a crush.**** -SnufflesWillRise**  
Yes I have seen it. And I'm not incredibly optimistic... Kataang seems to be shaping up as the canon ship for Avatar. Ah well. Zutara shipper are all dreamers, right? We are the hopeless and desperate. XD

**Am I completely off base here, or did you say this would have a happier ending than The Hunter and the Prey? Cause right now it's hard to imagine. -Divine-Red-Crayon**  
I know it's hard, but have some faith in me! (although I probably destroyed any vestiges of faith you had in me with the ending of THATP... sorry)

**Ah, the lotus tile...hidden in Hiro's sleeve until just the right time, no doubt. Though most consider it a useless piece, he finds it vitally important in his personal game strategy. -gladdecease**  
Man I loved that episode as well.

**How did the existing Zuko receive a scar to match his ancestors?**** -khazia**  
Hopefully I answered your question this chapter! XD

**it would take a month to complete the mission- only, we've only seen the fighting take place in like one day, i think. and the location of the rebels was FAR away... so did the rebels diliberatly run all the way back near the Fire Nation's army complex to ambush them?**** -Mew Kelcita**  
Um I think I mentioned in Chapter 13, in this sentence, "A week of traveling, and they were camping tonight in the south, near a deserted village that had been the victim of the latest rebel attacks." A week had passed. Maybe you accidentally missed that part.

**W00t! I started a fad! All these LTE groupies! Follow me, my minions, so that we may glomp RedNovember! -Red Hawk K'sani**  
I is glomped.


	15. Bittersweet Meetings

**Chapter 15: Bittersweet Meetings  
**

_I've found the traitor_.

Katara thought her heart must have stopped beating. She waited for something to happen. She waited for the Emperor to leap forward and burn her to ashes for her deception.

She watched numbly as Ensei stepped forward, his face tight. "Who?"

The Emperor brandished the crumpled piece of paper in the air. "Admiral Zhao."

All of a sudden she could breathe again.

The Emperor continued to talk. "We must leave _now_. He has a rendezvous with the rebels in three days time. I- we -_can't_ miss this opportunity to expose him!"

Upon hearing the words "leave" and "now" in the same sentence, the patrol automatically moved into packing and readying their things for a long-distance trip. So it was practically midnight; what did it matter? Their monarch, their Emperor, had come and request their help in capturing a traitor of the Fire Empire. Nothing more was needed. This obedience was ingrained into them as deeply as their own names-it was who they were, what they were here to do.

Only Lt. Ensei had the precedence to question, or ask information of, the Emperor. Katara caught snatches of their conversation as she hurriedly stuffed an extra set of clothing into her bag.

"How do you know it's Zhao?" asked Ensei, voice low.

The Emperor didn't bother to explain; he merely shoved the letter at Ensei. The lieutenant read it quickly, eyes scanning the paper while his face grew more tense. He finally finished, looking up at Emperor Zuko.

"There's no certain evidence it's Admiral _Zhao_-"

"That's what my uncle said too," the Emperor cut in impatiently.

"-_but_," Ensei continued, undeterred, "seeing as he's the only Admiral who's enough of a bastard to attempt something like this, my thoughts agree with yours."

The Emperor nodded tightly.

Lt. Ensei turned back to his patrol. "Ready to go?"

* * *

Their breaths made clouds in the air as Patrol One and the Emperor made their way towards the army stables. Once inside, the warmth of the animals helped frozen fingers saddle and bridle the horses. 

Katara was silent as she brushed over her horse's coat hurriedly. She wanted to stall for time, pretend she was sick, _anything_ to prevent her from going on this mission-why oh _why_ couldn't the Emperor have picked a different Elite Patrol to accompany him?

The rational part of her mind answered her; the Emperor was close friends with Lt. Ensei. It only made sense that he would trust his friend to be the one to protect him from an ambitious, traitorous man like Zhao.

She lead her ready horse out of the stable and into the courtyard. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, another form barreled into her and Katara caught herself before tripping.

"Katara!" it was Kaz's excited face, shining in the dim light. "Are you leaving for a mission? Are you?"

She impatienty shoved him to the side as she put one foot in the stirrup. "Yeah. What's it to you?" It was past midnight and they were leaving for a mission. Add on the fact of this 'traitor' business and Katara was in a bad mood.

"Can I come?"

She gave him a blank look. "What?" Kaz was a trainee healer, not a soldier.

"I need field experience before they'll let me become a full-fledged doctor- please, Katara?"

Katara gave him a disbelieving look. "Kaz, this isn't really the best mission you could tag along on- really serious business- I'm not sure if the Emperor-"

The look on his face was that of a pleading child. Inwardly, she seriously doubted that he was really seventeen years old.

Shrugging him off, she nodded towards Lt. Ensei and the Emperor, who were still inside the stables. "Check with them. I can't say anything."

Kaz dashed into the brightly lit stables, and in less than a minute, a disgruntled-looking Emperor and Lieutenant came outside with the younger boy at their heels. She could hear his excited chattering from her position atop her horse. "Katara said I could ask you—I would really appreciate it if you would allow me to come—the exam is in a week's time—"

"You know this guy, Katara?" the Emperor called to her.

"Uh—yes, sir," she tried to avoid eye contact. Kaz was making a fool of himself. "I worked with him during my week in the hospital."

Kaz grasped this chance. "And I'm sure Katara will tell you what a good worker I am—I can take care of cuts, bruises, any type of wound you want me to deal with—"

The Emperor flashed her an annoyed glance. "Can you take orders, kid?"

Kaz ceased his babbling mid-sentence and nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I can, and I can also—"

"Fine," the Emperor bit out, waving a hand in dismissal. "I don't have time to deal with you tonight. Ensei, fill him in."

The Emperor stomped off to his own horse, and the Lieutenant eyed Kaz up and down. Swallowing nervously, Kaz looked at his feet; his goal accomplished, he was at a loss for what to do.

"Me and my soldiers don't have time to babysit, you hear me?" Ensei drawled. "You ride your horse, you carry your stuff, you do your share of the work. Hopefully this trip'll be a clean one and we won't end up needing you."

Kaz nodded again.

"Just don't get in the way, and you'll most likely stay alive," Lt. Ensei said, and now Katara knew he was just teasing. "Get your stuff and get on a horse before we leave without you." 

Then they were all mounted, all six of them, and galloped off into the night, much to the confusion of the sleepy stable hand boys.

It was probably one of the hardest trips Katara had ever taken. Clinging numbly to the saddle, she tried to ignore the chilling cold and keep herself awake at the same time. She had been so ready to have a good night's sleep, and that strange healing thing she'd done on Gian today hadn't helped keep her strength up. If anything, it seemed to have depleted her energy, slowing her reflexes, muddying her awareness.

She was unsure of how long they rode like that. Many times she found herself drifting into sleep, waking up with a start only when she felt her body starting to slip off the saddle. She bit her lip, slapped her face, pinched her arm, anything to keep herself awake.

It seemed like whole years had passed when she finally heard Lt. Ensei shout something ahead. "Zuko! We _have_ to stop sometime tonight… horses will… can't go any further!"

A nod from the Emperor, some kind of signal exchanged, and they were galloping off the main trail, into the light trees bordering the road. They stopped in a small clearing, and as Katara tried to dismount, she ended up tangling her feet in the stirrups. Her mind was full of unclear smoke, the tiredness dragging at her eyes and body. She was unbalanced and dizzy sliding out of the saddle, and landed in a heap on the ground. She couldn't even see clearly in the dark as to her fellow soldiers' conditions.

Her legs were still bent in the position they'd been in for the past hours (how many? four? five? It seemed like a million) and try as she might, she couldn't seem to get them to work. And after all, this dirt wasn't so uncomfortable- mighty soft actually, good to sleep on, drifting off-

A hard hand clenched her arm and hauled her up from the ground.

"You alright?" the voice of Emperor Zuko permeated her mind.

She was almost about to tell him off for interrupting her impromptu nap when she realized who it was.

"Fine," she said, shaking her head, "I'm just fine." Wrenching her arm from his grasp with perhaps a little more force than necessary, she walked off, intent on setting up camp and getting some sleep.

Katara wasn't sure how she accomplished setting up the tent with Hiro, but she distinctly remembered missing the tent stake and ending up hammering her finger instead. Damn.

The patrol laid out their sleeping bags inside after picketing the horses and taking bathroom breaks. Katara gratefully slipped into her warm cocoon at the very back of the tent and was surprised to find the Emperor on the other side. He said nothing as he settled down as well. He must not have had time to pack his own tent like he usually did. Oh well. The Elites' tent was certainly roomy enough, and it was cold tonight.

Katara fell asleep almost instantly, her back to the Emperor. Her old insomniac habits were no longer a problem; as a soldier, she'd learned to get sleep when she needed it, because she knew now that rest and relaxation were never guaranteed by the future.

* * *

They rode into a prosperous village around noon of the second day. The townspeople gave them a wide berth, because the patrol looked quite official, all mounted on horses and dressed in uniform. 

"I suggest we split for supplies and meet in an hour in the village square," Ensei said, squinting at the sun to judge the time. "Get whatever you need and be back here on time or we're leaving without you."

Katara nodded before she spurred her on horse onto the marketplace. They'd left the previous night without time for preparation. Things like food and other essentials had been left behind in the Emperor's haste. They could pick up a few quick things here before leaving.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that most of her patrol members had split up for their own needs, but Kaz was still trailing behind her. Stopping abruptly, she dismounted, and when he did too, she walked over and shoved the reins of her horse in his hands.

"You stay here and watch the horses," she said curtly. "they're too much of a hassle to ride through crowds. I'll get whatever we need, since I'm the one with actual experience here. Do you want anything special?"

Kaz looked at her, wide-eyed, and shrugged slightly. "Maybe some food?"

"We all want food," she said, giving him a small smile, before turning and mingling in with the crowds. Kaz stood there nervously to wait for her return.

She made a quick round, buying bread, fruits, and other plain fare. She was in the shadow of a stall selling apples when a stranger's arm brushed her back; she would have put it off as an accident except for that same arm began to curl around her waist. Instantly stiffening, she was about to turn around and smash the apple she was holding into the bastard's face when a low voice spoke in her ear.

"Katara! What a coincidence, seeing you here! I only just met your baby niece the other day." The tone was warm and friendly. Katara thought quickly. He knew her name—and because of the fact that he'd said it was a 'coincidence' seeing her here, meant it was no mere 'coincidence', but a planned meeting. And he'd mentioned Suyan, her brother's newborn child. Definitely somebody from Kyoshi.

She turned, and for the sake of the apple merchant, made a show of hugging this stranger. In doing so, she made sure that her back was facing the crowd, and hoped that the awning of the fruit stall would be sufficient enough to keep her face in shadow should one of the Elite members come trotting along.

Katara pulled back and looked up into the face of one of Sokka's childhood friends; Makito. He was taller than she remembered, and his face was one of friendly congeniality.

"Makito," she replied warmly, "it's been a long time."

He took the arm from her waist and slung it across her shoulders in a casual gesture. He tossed the apple merchant a small coin before taking one of the fruits. "Let's go somewhere and have a drink. We have a lot to catch up on." Behind the smile on his face Katara could read a calm urgency.

They worked their way through the crowd. Katara kept close by his side, sometimes curling in towards him like a besotted sweetheart hiding her face bashfully. In truth, she hid in fear. Fear of what sort of explanations she would have to dream up if Oran, or Faozu, or god forbid, the _Emperor_, came upon her like this with a strange man. It took far to long for them, in Katara's mind, to duck into a small side shop that was moderately crowded for business. They took a small side table, Makito and her, in the back of the room.

Pulling out a chair and almost slamming herself into it, Katara ducked low and whispered, "I have less than an hour here, so talk."

Makito dipped his head, pretending to read a menu over her shoulder. "Your brother and Suki send their regards. We heard about you from Kian, who made it back safely."

She nodded, and waved away one of the waitresses who had come to ask for their order. "Anything else?"

Makito took a deep breath. "Something's happened in Kyoshi, to your family."

Her hands clenched beneath the table. Sokka? Suki?

"Your niece. Suyan."

"Spit it out," Katara gritted through her teeth.

"You ever heard of the Avatar?"

Katara tried to relax her hands. "A fairy tale. Rumor. No one's heard of the Avatar since the last one died." Then it hit her. "Suyan? The Avatar?"

One of his hands shifted to grip her arm under the table. "Keep it down."

"Just tell me already—"

"Your niece was three months old when she levitated the water in her bottle."

That made sense, Katara thought frantically. Sokka was her brother—it probably ran in the family or something—

"Then she started to spit fire when she sneezed."

"Impossible," Katara gasped. "She's had no training—absolutely nothing. She's what, six months now?"

Makito shook his head urgently. "Nobody believed it at first but I've seen it, Katara, and believe me, this is the truth."

"It's the truth," she repeated dumbly.

"And if the Fire Empire finds out—"

"They'll kill her."

"Yes. And you know how people talk, even if they swear themselves to silence. Rumors slip out, people can't be trusted. It's impossible to keep something like this a secret. Impossible." His hand was a vise on her wrist, and he was speaking low and fast into her ear. All she could do was nod like an idiot.

"The Mistress sent me here to tell you: _now_ is the time to kill him," Makito hissed. "Now, before any word of this gets out. The Empire must be disorganized, ruined, without a leader, so Suyan will be safe as she grows up and becomes the Avatar."

So this was it, she thought. The long-awaited proclamation. Whispered from one rebel to the next in the back of a dingy, smelly little restaurant in a nameless countryside village. This is how someone dies.

"Do you hear me?" he shook her, still hissing. "Do you understand me?"

She nodded again. Then she thought of something. "Wait," she said. "We're going right now, with the Emperor, to find a traitor at Luxing Fort. A traitor who's apparently been meeting with rebels, Makito." Katara looked him in the eyes. "Has the Mistress authorized any sort of _alliance_ with a high-ranking Empire official?"

Makito almost recoiled at her words. "_What?_"

"The Emperor told us we were going to go catch an Admiral, a traitor who was conspiring with rebels—"

"That's bullshit," said Makito. "No Kyoshi rebel would willingly make an agreement with one of those Fire bastards. That's… that's impossible."

"This is what he told me, this is what I heard," she said, darting a glance out the windows towards the street. She couldn't have much time left.

"Alright," Makito snapped. "Don't kill him yet—go with them to Luxing Fort and find out about this _traitor_ and his little rebel friends. Find out the truth and get a message to us—"

"How?"

"Um, I don't know, uh, I'll have somebody in Kotzut meet with you when you get back."

"Alright, I'll do that—"

Makito ran a hand through his dark hair. "Shit. This ruins everything. I'll tell the Mistress you've been… delayed. We'll get somebody else to tell you when the real time comes."

"Fine," she said, and pushed back her chair, eyes on the passing crowd outside. "I have to go."

"Do you want me to tell your brother anything?" Makito called.

She shrugged, eyes still fixed outside, a cold, unfeeling, callous shrug because it was the only thing she knew she could do without breaking. "I guess I miss him," and then she was out the door, pushing past the people, trying to shake it all off and forget and become a different person, a different Katara, before she saw her fellow Elites again.

"You took so long!" Kaz cried as she jogged up to him and the horses, clutching her parcels in one hand.

"Yeah," she snapped, "And you're very welcome," she shoved the packages into his surprised arms.

He mumbled something that she didn't bother to catch while she swung herself up onto her horse. Her face schooled into a neutral mask, she felt her interior harden and pushed any lingering thoughts brought on by the talk with Makito from her mind. "Let's go," she called tersely to Kaz and they were off, the crowd parting around the horses like water around stones.

The Emperor's face was tense as they joined the rest of the group in the town square. "You were almost late," he said. It was Katara's turn to be snapped at.

She almost fired off a retort before she bit it off at the edge of her tongue. The Emperor Zuko could see that she had been about to say something before stopping; he gave her a look, a 'try me' glare, before the patrol silently moved out of the town and back onto the trail towards Luxing.

Shifting slightly on her sore muscles, Katara prepared herself for another full day's ride.

And she tried not to think about how she'd consciously tried, and succeeded in, delaying the death of the Emperor.

* * *

_She woke up and there was no one next to her. Sleeping bags flat and rumpled. She put one hand on the cloth next to her, the one that belonged to the Emperor. Faintly warm. Where were they? Had somebody attacked? No; she would have heard it, and it was utterly silent outside. Besides, her patrol would have woken her up if they were leaving. _

_The panic rose inside her, and she threw back her sleeping bag, anxious to get outside. Where was everybody? The eerie sense of loneliness crept up her back, like tiny tendrils of fear that quickly grasped her head in a tight, deadly grip._

_She flipped aside the tent door, and outside, all was bathed in the moon's silvery glow. Calm, tranquil, utterly silent._

_Katara looked down and the Emperor's bloody face was next to her feet, eyes glazed over with death._

_She screamed, stepping back and almost stumbling on another body. Qin, his face almost mangled beyond recognition. Katara put her hands up to her mouth in horror. There was Faozu, and Oran, and Lt. Ensei. No. What had happened? Had the rebels attacked? How had she possibly slept through it?  
_

_"Katara," a voice called to her from the edge of the clearing._

_She whirled around, grasping for a knife from her belt. Who was it?_

_A white face stared at her, floating above nothingness; a mere blank, inhuman disk illuminated in the trees. And Katara recognized the Mistress' calm features._

_"A job well done," said the head of the Mistress, in a kindly tone- a motherly tone. It was a voice that Katara had never before heard directed at herself. "A very good job well done."_

_"What?" Katara gasped. "What are you talking about?"_

_"I'm so proud of you," continued the Mistress. "I'm so proud of what you have done for Kyoshi."_

_"What the fuck are you talking about!"_

_"Look at yourself," said the Mistress, as if Katara hadn't said anything. "All grown up. My beautiful daughter."_

_Katara looked at her hands, one of them holding the shaking knife. She screamed in horror. The metal of the weapon was slick with red, a crimson stain that dripped over both her hands, all the way up her arms and she could feel it on her _face

_She kept screaming, a never-ending wail of horror and denial and no no no no she couldn't have done it she couldn't have._

_"My beautiful daughter," said the face. "My beautiful Katara."_

_Katara flung the bloody knife away from her, threw it to the ground and raised her sticky hands to cover her red cheeks. No._

_"I love you," said the Mistress, in an almost sing-song tone._

_"No! No!"_

_The face smiled, and its teeth were red. "I love you so very, very much."_

* * *

There were hard hands gripping her shoulders, keeping her prisoner. She fought them, clawed at them, tried to escape. 

"Katara! Katara, wake up!"

She opened her eyes and the scarred face of the Emperor was next to her, his tawny eyes darkened with worry. She was panting, gasping for breath. Her mind was still stuck in her dream, trapped in that nightmare.

"You're alive," she said, and heard her voice as if someone else had said the words.

Emperor Zuko gave her a look, not letting go of her shoulders. "Of course I am," he said.

She raised one hand wonderingly, marveling at her clear, tan skin. No trace of blood anywhere. Katara looked more closely at his face. His scar- it was so red.

Emperor Zuko almost flinched as her cool hand touched his face. It slid over his cheek, from his eye to his temple.

"Bloody," she said.

He tried not to shiver.

"I hope you're okay," she continued. "I'm very sorry."

She must be sleep talking, he thought to himself. He raised one of his own hands to cover hers, the one on his face, and gently brought it down to rest at her side. He almost missed her cool touch. Almost.

"Go back to sleep," he said. "Go back to sleep."

"It was an accident," she said, eyes unfocused. "I didn't mean to do it."

Zuko pretended to know what she was talking about. "Of course. I understand completely."

She smiled, and he tried not to smile back. "I'm glad."

* * *

Katara woke up the next morning, an unsettling feeling in her mind. She had dreamt yetserday, she knew it, but the only things she could remember were flashes of red, a face of white, and a calm voice saying it understood her. It carried an overlaying film of dread, as if something horrible had happened and she couldn't remember what. 

But she was rested, and her body felt all the better for it. She packed her things, rolled away her sleeping bag, and emerged into the bright sunshine of the day. After saddling and readying her own horse, she helped the patrol take down the tent and clean up the clearing. The Emperor was no less urgent than yesterday to get moving. He cast her a few strange looks as they worked, but Katara shrugged this off.

In less than an hour they were ready to continue to Luxing Fort, where, according to Emperor Zuko's information, the traitor Admiral would be having a secret meeting.

They rode in silence, with the Emperor at the head. He was filled with an intensity Katara had never seen before; he was always rushing, and snapped at anyone who did something to slow the group down, however unintentional the actiton might have been. She personally grew annoyed quickly, but kept her mouth shut as to her opinions on his behavior. He was the Emperor, and she was a lowly soldier. He ordered, she obeyed.

It was as simple as that.

* * *

"Do you have nightmares often?" the Emperor asked her as they laid out their things inside the tent. They were camping by the trail that night, and the others were outside rubbing down the horses. 

Katara froze. "What do you mean?" The dread from earlier this morning crept up on her again. Her dream- the one she couldn't remember -what had it been about?

"Last night," he said, letting go of his sleeping bag to look at her intently. "You were screaming and I tried to wake you up. Then you began to talk. I don't think you were awake."

She tore her eyes from his gaze and tried to concentrate on rebuckling her pack. Her fingers trembled. "What did I say?" Oh please, she thought to herself, please let it have been something he wouldn't understand. Please let me not have said anything incriminating.

He frowned, as if trying to remember. "You said- you said that I was alive, and that you were sorry, and that... that something was an accident, and you didn't mean it."

Katara shook her head, confused. "I don't know what you mean," she said. "I don't remember anything." _Except that I was very, very scared_.

"You did something else too," he continued, voice a bit more uncertain. "You... you touched me."

"I _what_?"

And slowly, so very slowly, he lifted his hand and cradled her cheek in its warmth. "Like this. On my scar."

Katara stared at him, marveled at the heat of his hand against her face. There was an instant, the smallest period of time, when their eyes connected, blue against gold, and she knew this was right.

Then it was over. Katara, a strange fear in her throat, separated them by turning her face to the side, and his hand dropped.

"I'm sorry," she said, voice shaking. "If I offended you, your Majesty."

And boundaries were back, rules set, strong walls built high between them again.

"Forget it," said the Emperor, his tone almost harsh. She looked at him, surprised at the anger. "Forget anything ever happened."

Katara didn't understand his heated tone, and struck back unconsciously. "Then you didn't have to bring it up!"

He recoiled almost visibly, more from surprise than anything else.

"So I touched your scar in my sleep," she continued, letting go, "What is the big deal? Did I taint your royal personage because of an accident?"

He probably wasn't used to people snapping at him like she did. The Emperor's eyes were wide, shocked

She hurried to make amends. "I apologize, your Majesty-"

He cut her off. "It's a mark of shame."

"What?"

"The scar. It is dishonor."

Katara was curious, but also wary. "I'm not sure what you mean."

He lifted one hand to gesture impatiently at his face. "It's a curse on the eldest son of every generation in my family. Because of what my ancestor did."

"The first Zuko? What did he do?"

"Something involving his father. Shamed in an Agni Kai. But the reason it is passed down in the family is because of what he did later in his life."

Katara had a feeling she knew what this was.

The Emperor continued, almost as if he was reciting from a history book. "He fell in love with a Waterbender woman. And had a son- my grandfather -by her. In doing so, he mixed the blood of two races and ruined the pure line of the royal family. The scar is a symbol of this dishonor.

"It is considered evil, and bad luck on the person who touches it," he finished. "You are the first person who has."

"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" she whispered. Noises permeated the cloth of the tent from outside; the others must have finished their chores for the night.

The Emperor regarded her calmly. "I haven't decided yet."

* * *

Katara woke in the middle of the night, unsure of why she was breathing so heavily. She tried to cling to the dream she had been in, but it slipped away, thin as smoke and just as perishable. She sighed. Nothing she could do now but try to go back to sleep. Her back was warm, pressed against the person sleeping next to her. Lifting her head, she looked over the crowded occupants of the tent. 

The Emperor's eyes were open, staring at her.

"You were doing it again," he said quietly.

She looked at him, uncomfortable. "What?"

"You were having a nightmare again, I think."

"Oh," said Katara, and she lay back down again. "What did I say this time?" She already knew it couldn't have been anything revealing; otherwise he would have already choked her to death in her sleep. Hopefully all she'd said had been pure nonsense, like last time.

"I couldn't understand you," he replied, shifting. She could feel him move inside his sleeping bag. "But you sounded... scared."

Limbs tense, Katara rolled herself away from him, leaving behind the warmth and separating their bodies. "Sorry I woke you."

He didn't reply, and all was silent again inside the tent.

Katara waited; soon his breath seemed to even out enough that she could conclude he was, in fact, asleep. Shifting as little as possible, she managed to wiggle her way out of her sleeping bag. Tonight she had slept in the position closest to the opening, with the Emperor on her other side.

She made it out into the bright moonlight with hardly any difficulty or noise. It was chilly and she strode towards the edge of the clearing, into the trees, rubbing her arms under her thin clothing. With a bit of exercise, she'd be able to get her blood flowing, at the same time dispelling the thoughts that refused to relinquish their grip over her tired mind.

When she judged that she was sufficiently far enough away from the campsite, Katara turned and in one smooth movement, drew a knife and sunk it into the nearest tree. Her bones and muscles almost sighed as this long-ago movement, this familiar ache, returned and she thought that it had been far, far too long. Inspecting the knife in the tree, she noted that without constant practice, her aim had shifted and was slightly off. How depressing. There'd been a time, back in Kyoshi, when she could have nailed a distant target with one glance. Not so much anymore.

These Fire soldiers, they were all about close combat, face-to-face fighting, with swords and fists and sweat in your face and _honor_. If they had to fight from a distance, it was all about the bows and arrows. She'd adapted because she had to; didn't mean she had to like it.

She established a calming rhythm. Three knives in, step up to pull out, and back away to repeat again. Automatic, reflexive, _known_.

Katara pulled back an arm in one swoop, and then uncurled her body, letting go at the precise moment; it sank into the tree trunk, inches away from a scarred face suddenly appearing from behind the leaves.

"Shit," she said, heart pumping fast. "I could have killed you!"

"No," he said, coming around all the way from behind the tree. "you couldn't have. Your aim is not _that_ bad."

"I should hope not, your Majesty," she said stiffly. She was angry that her peace, her solitude had been disturbed. "Why were you following me?"

Emperor Zuko wrapped one pale hand around the hilt of her knife and jerked it out of the tree. She held her breath; what were the chances that he might recognize the make? But nothing happened. He merely ran a finger along the blade before holding it out, hilt first, towards her. "I heard you leaving. I wondered what you were up to."

She walked up and all but snatched the weapon from his fingers. Katara dimly noticed the leather-wrapped hilt was warm. "A midnight piss not good enough for you?"

"And the knife practice?"

"A hobby. To keep my aim up."

"A hobby," he said, coming around closer. "Like meeting strange men in strange towns is a hobby?" His voice was chill; almost colder than the winter air on her skin.

Katara froze, fingers curling around the knife. "A distant cousin," she lied through her teeth. "Coincidence. My family is very large and we have some wanderers. It's almost impossible to travel to a town and not meet somebody I'm related to."

"Large family?" the Emperor stepped up, eyes unreadable, the unblemished side of his face in shadow, hidden from the moonlight. "Tell me your clan name; I know possibly every influential family in the Empire."

"We're just a farming clan from Yeriv," she said, mind racing. _Don't come any closer._ "The Monguei's. Not very wealthy or rich, you wouldn't have heard of us."

"Yeriv. Earth Province? What's in your bloodline?"

"Majority of my ancestors were Earth," she replied. "but no benders, it doesn't run in the family. And a bit of Water, from very far back. That accounts for some of the strange coloring in my family. We get a bit of trouble for that, occasionally." Katara thought she sounded rather confident in her role. Good acting, if she could say so herself.

"I know what you mean," his voice had changed, suddenly bittter and self-deprecating. "I get the same problem."

Katara must have shown some kind of questioning expression on her face, because he continued on.

"Some of the idiot nobles think that because of the Waterbender several generations back in my family, the royal blood has been _ruined_, and we need a new, _pure_ bloodline to rule the Empire." It wasn't clear whether he was mocking himself, or those nobles he spoke of. "They fight me at every turn, every decision I make, as if they think they could do a better job! The tiniest mistake is because of my _impure blood_, and gives them all the more reason to undermine me."

Katara's eyes widened at this sudden onslaught of confession. What could she say now?

"You understand," he said, eyes focusing on her face abruptly. "you must understand why this mission is so important to me, why I've been bitching at everyone, rushing everyone on this trip. The rumors of a traitor have already begun to spread. If I don't fix it, they'll find somebody more _capable_ of flushing out a betrayer. Somebody better suited to rule my empire!"

"Your honor is at stake," she said simply.

Emperor Zuko stared at her, almost as if in surprise, or maybe relief that finally, _finally_ somebody had figured him out.

"Thank you," he said.

* * *

**A/N: **I've committed the cardinal sin of Avatar Fanfiction. I have made an OC the Avatar. I know it's terrible, but of course it couldn't be Aang again! He must be reincarnated as a different person! Feel free to scream at me all you wish. I deserve it. 

Late update. There is an explanation. The plot got screwed; storyline and events completely mixed up. I wrote half of this before realizing it wasn't going where I intended it to go and so I had to start over. Then I split it into two, then three, then two chapters again with all these confusing events and a freaking messed-up timeline in my head and I hate being. So. Fucking. Disorganized.

So of course I scrapped everything and started all over again, cursing my stupidity and redoing my outline to get everything straight. So here you have the product of my lame attempts. Sorry I'm in a bad mood. If it makes you feel any better, because I split this in two, that means chapter 16's already halfway written.

And I'm sorry about the OOCness, if you guys notice. I'm having a hard time lately keeping them all in character; they grew up in different situations and have had different experiences than the characters in the show (plus they're three years older). This complicates their personality and it's hard to keep them as they truly are. My fault.

**What is an AU story?**  
Somebody asked me this question; I can't remember who, sorry! XD Anyways AU stands for Alternate Universe, where the author takes the characters and places them in a different setting, or an 'alternate universe'. Although I've kept the characters in the Avatar world, the world situation is extremely different, I've changed the history (or the future?) to suit my needs. Like the Fire Empire and Kyoshi rebels; I altered those from their original Fire Nation and Kyoshi Island to suit my own needs. A story where you put the Zuko and Katara in say, a high school setting, would be a more drastic AU.

**is Iroh the original, or is he a reincarnation, too? - Celtic Warrior**  
Reincarnation.

**What would it have been like if THATP had a happy ending? - SarahNev**  
Not sure. I didn't think they possibly could have had one. The relationship was much too destructive; they were stuck in this endless cycle of violence. That was my fault. Katara had her principles and morals in the way; Zuko had his honor and his quest. They could not be happy together. (And yes, this is my outlook on the Zutara ship. Why do I still support it? Because I'm clinging to hope when there is none. Or I'm just stupid.)

**If I may ask, how come you have the first few chapters in first person point of view, but the rest is in third person? - SilentRain **  
Only the first chapter and the first part of the second chapter were in 1st POV. Originally it was going to be ONLY the prologue in first person, but then it kind of overflowed into the 2nd chapter. Maybe I'll go back and fix that later. Mostly because I wanted the prologue, the part about Katara's early life, to be told from her personal view so we could get inside her head and learn about her experiences in Kyoshi and how she grew up. After that, I knew I would have to be switching between views for the rest of the story, because I need flashes of Zuko and Zhao, so I went to 3rd POV. What do you all prefer?

PS: I have a new story. It had nothing whatsoever to do with LTE or THATP. It is different. It is Zutara.

... maybe not so different after all. Anyways read it and review, por favor.


	16. In This Silence I Believe

**Chapter 16: In This Silence I Believe**

During the day, the Emperor was a different man. He was driven, pursuing an enemy he needed to catch. Waking everybody up before dawn, they were riding at full speed towards Luxing Fort by the time the sun was up. Katara shivered, clenching her black cloak closer around her. He was insane. They were going to get to Luxing _early_, at the rate they were traveling.

It was very strange. At night, Emperor Zuko seemed almost calm; a different person. But under the sun, he changed, barely acknowledging her except to order her around as he did everybody else.

But when they stopped to eat at noon, Ensei said, "I'm thinking we better slow down soon, Zuko. The horses can't take much more."

"Speed is a _necessity_, Ensei—"

"I know," Lt. Ensei cut him off. Katara averted her eyes. She hoped it wouldn't get ugly. "But how fast will we be able to go if one of the horses breaks a leg?"

After a few more grumbles and exchanged comments, the Emperor finally relented and they rode at a walk.

"We'll still get there before nightfall," Lt. Ensei reassured everyone.

"Good," Emperor Zuko snapped out unintentionally. "I need to capture this traitor and get back to Kotzut as soon as possible."

"Why the rush?" asked Ensei. Everybody else was silent and just listening. "Doesn't the old Dragon of the West have everything under control?"

Emperor Zuko gave a short nod. "Yes, but there are things we need to deal with personally. You know I told you we found and killed the Avatar six months ago?"

Lt. Ensei nodded, and Katara tried to hide her interest. This must have been the Avatar who had come after the last one, the Air bender, and before Suyan. "The one who tried to start that rebellion with the Earth slaves?"

Zuko fingered his sword hilt. "He was an old man, hardly in any condition to fight. He was a descendent of the extinct Water Tribes, and had hidden for majority of his life before finally coming out and trying to start a war. He would have done a better job throwing his lot in with those Kyoshi rebels. His 'army' was little more than hot-headed teenagers who had no control and old men who wanted to live the glory days again."

Lt. Ensei let out a short laugh; so did Oran.

"So now," continued the Emperor, "we have to find the new Avatar. He or she must have been born soon after we killed the last one. According to the cycle, he or she should be an Earth bender first."

"Hell of a job," Ensei commented, "you're going to have to search through all of the Earth slave camps and refugees for that one kid?"

Emperor Zuko nodded again. "But Admiral Zhao had a different idea. Faster, quicker, and more efficient."

"What was it?"

"Kill all Earth bender children under the age of one."

Katara, in the very back of the procession, closed her eyes. Holy shit.

"Holy shit," said Lt. Ensei, echoing her sentiments out loud. "Only Admiral Zhao would think of something so… drastic."

Drastic? thought Katara. More like sickeningly disgusting.

"It makes sense," Emperor Zuko shrugged. "Kill them all, and we'll have to get the Avatar eventually. And when the Earth Avatar dies, he or she will be reborn into the Fire Nation."

"And would thus be under your influence and your control," said Lt. Ensei, nodding. "The Avatar will be raised as a loyal Fire Empire citizen. Those powers will come in handy when putting down the rebels."

Katara couldn't believe what she was hearing. Kill Avatars of every other element until it was finally Fire's turn in the cycle? It was horrible.

"It's a good idea," said Emperor Zuko without any sort of apparent emotion. "Zhao's fantastic strategizing intelligence at work. Implementing a gigantic massacre of month-old babies. Efficient, quick, and if done without any fuss, we could have our Fire Avatar by next summer."

"So what did you say?" Katara called, unable to keep her mouth shut any longer. "What did you decide?"

The Emperor didn't turn around to look at her. He face straight ahead, so she couldn't see his expression.

"I said no."

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

They clattered into the courtyard of Luxing Fort when the sun began to set. 

All of them were wary, weapons drawn, surveying the small stony building situated on the southeastern coast of the Fire Nation. It was eerily silent, the only noise from the rippling cloth of the flags fluttering atop the roof.

"There's no one here," said Qin quietly. "Where are the sentries? The commanding officers?"

The Emperor swung his horse in a full circle, golden eyes burning with intensity. He refused to think that their hurried trip had been for nothing. The traitor was here, _had_ to be here.

"Zhao!" Emperor Zuko roared, lifting his sword into the air. "Come out! Don't play the coward with me!"

Katara winced, and Lt. Ensei and Oran exchanged a look. That had been rash of the Emperor. Even now, none of them were a hundred per cent positive that the traitor was indeed Zhao, and his Majesty's loud declaration would not help if they ended up being incorrect.

But his proclamation had achieved results; shadows in the entrance of the Fort moved, and figures dressed in the red armor of the Fire Empire emerged. They had helmets on, and none of their features were distinguishable.

The Emperor rode to the front of the patrol. "Where is your commander?" he asked imperiously. "Bring him to me at once."

The soldiers said nothing, merely continued to march forward. The horses nickered nervously as the red-clad soldiers slowly surrounded the group. Katara made a hurried count. Over twenty of them- practically a full regiment of troops. And they weren't replying to their Emperor's demands.

"Didn't you hear me?" demanded Emperor Zuko. "I said, bring Admiral Zhao to me at once!"

One of the soldiers spoke up, his voice muffled and made anonymous by his helmet. "Admiral Zhao is currently busy in a meeting. He will see you when he is ready."

"A meeting with a Kyoshi rebel!" shouted the Emperor. "He's conspiring with the enemy!"

Impossible, Katara thought to herself, eyes widening. Impossible. No Kyoshi Islander would ever betray the people and attempt to have a meeting with a Fire Empire admiral. The Mistress would never have allowed it. Not even for peace. Besides, Admiral Zhao wasn't out for peace- he was out for the world.

"Come inside with us calmly," said the helmeted soldier, "and we won't have to use force."

Emperor Zuko was beyond angry. He lashed out, sending fire blasts at the traitorous soldiers. The Elites charged forward at their lord's heels, and attempted to break through the lines for the Fort.

It was a complete failure. They were outnumbered, six to one, and were quickly apprehended, weapons taken away. Katara attempted to stab her attacker but she was set on by two others and soon she was on the ground, breath knocked out, trying to spit dirt from her mouth. She couldn't see anything beyond the boots of the soldiers, but she assumed that the other members of her patrol had been caught as well. Where was Kaz? Was Kaz okay? She could hear the outraged voice of the Emperor.

"This is treason!" he yelled, and Katara caught a hint of smoke and singed cloth on the air. He must have begun Fire bending. "You are disobeying your Emperor! You will be killed for your insubordination- traitors!"

Nobody answered him, and when Katara was hauled to her feet roughly, she could see that Lt. Ensei's face was bruised, Qin's nose bloody, Oran's arm at an awkward angle, and Kaz looked like a frightened child. This was not what he had been expecting when he'd begged her to come on this trip.

The Emperor had more than five soldiers trying to keep him down. He attempted to Fire bend, and one of the masked men slammed his sword hilt into the Emperor's skull. His head went limp, unconscious.

Katara began to struggle, reaching for the sword of one of her captors. Impatient, he delivered a blow to the back of her head, and everything went dark.

But before she lost consciousness, she had time to notice two limp, bloody, _dead_ green-clad figures being carried by four Fire soldiers from the side entrance of the fort towards the beach.

Impossible.

* * *

Katara woke up with cold stone against her cheek. Oran's face filled her vision, worried and drawn.

"You okay, Katara?" he asked, helping her to stand up and sit on one of the wooden benches nailed to the wall. She stared through metal bars. So they were in a cell.

She nodded her head, running her tongue over her teeth and grimacing at the disgusting taste. "How long was I out?"

Oran glanced over at Lt. Ensei, sitting on the opposite bench, closest to the cell bars. "Two hours. Maybe more."

"And nothing else has happened?"

He shook his head. Katara peered through the dim, flickering torchlight. Qin, Faozu, and Ensei were all slumped on the other bench, faces both weary and angry. Kaz sat against the back wall, eyes dazed. Oran sat down next to her. But where was...?

She looked through the metal bars separating this cell from the one next to it, and saw the Emperor. He was pacing, like a caged tiger, walking back and forth and back and forth in his prison. So he was kept separate from them.

"Admiral Zhao hasn't shown up yet?" she turned back to Oran, the only who seemed in the mood for talking.

He shrugged a no.

"That bastard," Emperor Zuko gritted through his teeth from the next cell, "will have a lot to answer for once I get my hands on him."

Nobody had anything to say to that. Katara leaned her head back on the cool stone and closed her eyes, swallowing. Her muscles protested the sore treatment the soldiers had given her. They must have been underground- there were no windows, and the only light was from the torches. The cells seemed to be built around a central, square room that had a small table and chair in the center and a door on one side that probably led back up to the ground level. As far she could tell, they and the Emperor were the only occupants of the dungeon.

"What's going to happen to us?" asked Kaz plaintively.

Oran and Lt. Ensei shrugged together.

"You've... you've been in worse situations than this, and survived, right?" Kaz almost begged for reassurance.

"Betrayed by an Admiral of the Fire Navy, and locked away in his dungeons with no chance of escape?" Lt. Ensei laughed dryly. "This has got to be rock bottom."

"First time for everything," muttered Faozu.

"Sorry you got dragged into this, kid," Lt. Ensei shrugged, turning away. "But you asked to come. You knew it would be dangerous.

Kaz looked like he was trying not to cry.

Hours passed; food and water in a pitcher was brought to them by an anonymous guard, which nobody touched at first. The Emperor pushed against the bars of his cell and made demands of the soldier, but the man merely turned his back and exited again. Emperor Zuko, frustrated, blasted fire through the bars and into the central room, heightening the torches' flame. After that, he was silent. None of them said anything; the situation was beyond words. All they could do was wait.

Katara dozed off, as did most everybody else, except for Emperor Zuko, who kept his eyes trained on the door. An uncountable amount of time must have gone by, because stomachs began to growl after most of them woke up from their sleep.

"Shit," said the Emperor, about an hour after they had eaten the cold gruel and sipped the dank water.

"What?" asked Ensei.

"I can't Fire bend."

"_What_?"

"I can't fucking Bend!" the Emperor roared, and moved in a powerful motion that usually had a wild flame at the end of his fists. But this time, nothing came out.

"They drugged the food," Kaz realized. "They drugged it so you can't Bend."

Lt. Ensei rounded on Kaz. "What do you mean, _drugged_ it?"

"The Guzho plant leaves, mixed with a tasteless juice from its fruit, makes a potent drink that deprives a Bender of their ability for up to a day, depending on the amount taken," Kaz rattled off, as if memorizing from a textbook. "It does to a Bender's spirit abilities what alcohol does to a regular man's head."

"I can't believe this!" the Emperor pounded his fist against the stone wall. "I can't believe they tricked me!"

And all of a sudden, the door opened, bright light spilling in, and the Admiral Zhao stepped into the room, face smirking and triumphant.

"Well well well... what have we here?" he said, voice silky and mocking.

"Zhao!" Emperor Zuko launched himself forward only to be stopped by his prison. "You traitor! You'll be punished for this! You'll be _executed_, slowly and painfully-"

"Tsk tsk," said Zhao, smiling at the younger man. "Such language. And just when we were about to have some fun."

"Fun?" the Emperor straightened. "You're a sick man, Zhao." His voice was confident, but Katara could see the tension in his body, the readying of himself for pain and torture.

Zhao laughed, long and loud. The fire from the torches flickered against the walls. "You're such a self-centered little shit," Zhao said to Zuko with a sort of twisted affection. "And you're not even the one I'm interested in."

Emperor Zuko looked confused first. "What?" He'd assumed that he, the Emperor, was the one Admiral Zhao wanted to eliminate and capture, as all of them had thought. Katara's mind raced ahead—

And felt the world come crashing down around her as reasoning and logic gave her the answer. The knowledge in Zhao's eyes, the departure of the rebels she'd seen before blacking out.

The Admiral's eyes passed over the Emperor, passed over the angry faces of her patrol members, and came to rest on Katara's face.

Fuck, she thought. Oh fuck.

He could see the admission in her eyes, the drowning horror, and swept her a mocking bow, much like the one he'd shown her such a long time ago at Adia's ball. "Long time no see, Lady Katara," he said, his face a gentle sneer. "Why don't you come forward from the back of that dirty cell so I can see your pretty face again?"

Her body was frozen. She had no idea what to do. She wanted to stall for time, she wanted to stop time, wanted to stop this from happening and oh no-

Lt. Ensei stood up, and his body moved in front of her, shielding her from Admiral Zhao's view. Qin, Faozu, and Oran did the same thing, creating a protective barrier.

"Why don't you come in here and get her, _Admiral_," said the Lieutenant calmly.

Zhao laughed again, long and loud and harsh. "Don't you find this ironic, Katara?" he called to her. "Don't you find their loyalty ironic?"

Yes, she thought to herself. She found it utterly, sickeningly ironic.

All she could do was shake her head. She couldn't make herself move. Then out of the corner of her eye, she caught Zhao's quick movement, and all of a sudden Kaz was slammed against the cell, the Admiral's tight fist gripping his neck from between the bars. A flash of metal, and then a knife was at Kaz's throat.

"I'll kill the small Elite," said Zhao, face expressionless. "Or any Elite. Get out here, now."

Kaz was going to get himself killed because of her.

He wasn't even struggling. They all knew that one movement, one _slip_ and the knife would slide in smoothly.

Admiral Zhao forced the knife upwards, and blood oozed from the cut under Kaz's throat. He let out an involuntary cry of pain and fear. Looking into his eyes, Katara knew that the Admiral was not lying. He was insane, driven by something beyond morals and ethics. There was no end to what he would do in order to get what he wanted. He would kill Kaz if he needed to, and continue to hurt everybody else around her until she acceded to him.

The Emperor spoke from the next cell, clearly confused. "Katara?"

This is the end, she thought again, and pushed forward between Lt. Ensei and Qin, startling them. Faozu made a grab for her but she shook him off, blinded by her decision. "He doesn't bluff," she muttered, and stepped up to the bars.

Admiral Zhao raked his eyes over her face, her body. Katara tried not to breath; tried not to look away. A row of metal bars separated the two of them and the cold iron felt like toothpicks, the only thing keeping him from destroying her.

"You are a curious bitch," he said, eyes like flames.

One of the faceless guards who had followed Admiral Zhao in unlocked the door for her and she stepped out, eyes staring straight ahead at the opposite wall. She refused to look at her friends, refused to answer their confused cries and shouts. Now she felt vulnerable; no longer were there bars separating her from the madness that was Admiral Zhao. No protection. No mask to hide behind.

Zhao shoved Kaz backwards, and the he stumbled before the rest caught him and set him down gently on the floor, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

"Sit down," Zhao shoved her towards the chair in the center of the room. She sat down stiffly, and didn't move as the guards chained her arms to the chair.

"You," said Zhao, circling around her, "have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this."

"Zhao!" yelled the Emperor, grasping the bars of his cell as if he could break them with his bare hands and rush outside. "She is nothing to you! I'm the one you need to kill! She's just a soldier! She's nothing!"

Zhao laughed delightedly. "Nothing? You think she's nothing?" He pointed one triumphant finger at Katara's down turned face. "She is everything to this war, my dear Emperor. She is the fork in the road, the final weight that will tip the scale for one side instead of the other." Then he turned around and backhanded her viciously across the face.

She let her head hang where he had slapped her. There was no point in fighting back. There was nothing she could do now but keep her mouth shut, and try to contain this explosion as much as she could.

The Admiral's voice changed suddenly, from victorious delight to a cold rage. "I'm tired of playing these games. We're going to talk, like mature adults, right _now_."

Katara understood now. He was going to do it in front of the Elites. In front of Oran, in front of Ensei, in front of Kaz.

In front of the Emperor.

The Admiral was sadistic; he wouldn't be happy to simply tell the Emperor and the Elites her loyalties- he wanted them to hear it from her mouth, so there would be no doubt as to the truth of what he was implying. He wanted her to betray them with her own words. He wanted to see the disbelief on their faces, the shattering realization.

And he would take much pleasure from watching them suffer. Watching them suffer for her weaknesses and her lies.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, hidden from the Elites across the cold room, "Your rebel friends died from the torture before they could give me what I truly wanted, although your name was a nice surprise. Amazing what fire on sensitive parts of the body can do to loosen a person's tongue. But they gave out too soon. _You_ will provide the rest."

"We won't believe anything you say, Zhao," said the Emperor in a resolute voice from his cell, catching Zhao's attention. "You're trying to turn us against each other. It won't work."

"Shut up!" the Admiral let off a fiery blast towards Emperor Zuko, and he barely dodged it in time. Zhao turned back to Katara. "_Talk_."

Silence.

Somewhere in the dank, underground air of the dungeons, Katara could hear the slight drip, drip, drip of water sliding down the stone walls. She kept her mouth closed.

A barraged of fists rained down on her body and face. She kicked back desperately, towards his groin. But he was fast and she was blinded by the pain; head ringing, world spinning. Then fire, singeing her hair and catching her left shoulder; she cried out this time, unable to keep it in.

Dimly she could hear the outraged shouts of her fellow Elites and the Emperor. She tried to fight back again, but felt the bite of the metal cuffs on her wrists and she knew she was trapped, truly trapped this time.

He punched her in the stomach; she wheezed and the world tilted.

Zhao grabbed her hair and forced her head back, to stare across the room.

"Do you see your fellow Elites? Do you see your darling Emperor?"

Katara blinked, through red tears, through heavy breathing and desperate thoughts, and saw the blurred, angry faces of her fellow soldiers. Angry. Angry for her.

Zhao let her go to slump forward, and raised one hand to cup a burning flame. "If you don't answer my questions, I'll shoot one of them."

"Don't tell him anything," called Lt. Ensei. "Don't worry about us."

"I can do worse than burn them," said Zhao. "And I'll start with the little one."

Kaz let out a small moan.

_I'm so sorry_, she thought. _I'm so sorry you got dragged into this._

Juiko's insane, fever-crazed eyes, telling her to be careful about falling in love with the world too much, because it would never last. Hiro, bleeding to death after seeing her betray them, begging her to lie to him so he would be able to die in peace.

All her fault.

She wouldn't let it happen again.

Not to her friends. Not to Kaz. Not like this.

Across the room, her eyes connected with Zuko's, and she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what he wanted her to do.

So she said around the blood in her mouth, "What do you want to know?"

"No," said Zuko. Katara looked at him again, and knew that once she let one thing go, everything else would follow.

"You know what I want to know," said Zhao, and his voice was filled with a malice, a satisfaction beyond knowing. "I want to know about the Avatar."

Sokka and Suki were far away; not here. The Mistress wasn't either. Kyoshi was a faint, glimmering illusion in her memory.

Katara was alone, facing down this monster that no one would be able to save her from.

Zhao began to walk towards the other cell, lifting his arm and aiming it at the Emperor.

Zuko stared through the bars at Zhao; at Katara.

"No!" Katara strained against her bindings. "No—"

"She doesn't know the fucking Avatar, you bastard!" Lt. Ensei yelled, throwing himself at the bars. "Are you _insane_?"

Zhao smiled, and her world shattered. "Well, Katara, you sure have them fooled. So what will it be? The truth, or the Emperor's life?"

"Don't believe him!" Ensei roared. "You threaten to shoot somebody's friend and they'll damn well do _anything_ you say to keep their friend alive! He's just threatening her!"

Zhao continued to smile, and they all waited for her. The flame in Zhao's hand was growing and she couldn't take her eyes off it.

"You'll kill him anyways," she said, stalling for time, trying to put it all off. "You're going to kill him anyway when you steal the throne."

"Always such a smart girl," Zhao replied, smirking. "But if I kill him now, you'll get to watch it. And know that it's all your _fault_."

_"You understand," the Emperor said._

_"Your honor is at stake," she said simply._

I'll keep you alive, she thought to Zuko. And I hope you understand.

And maybe one day, I'll be able to thank you for it.

"The Avatar's on Kyoshi," Katara said. "Kyoshi Island."

Zhao let his arm drop and strode back to her.

The Elites were silent.

"When was the last time you had contact with the rebels?"

"Yesterday," she answered.

Zhao laughed.

Lt. Ensei shoved his way to the front of the cell, staring at her. But he doesn't say a word. None of them do.

Zuko dropped his gaze and looked away from her.

But it was only the beginning.

* * *

Zhao dragged it out of her, winding her words around his triumphant eyes and mocking laughter. He dived into every part of her that no one had ever seen before, that she'd kept hidden from the Elites; from Zuko.

Zhao cracked her mask, destroyed her _person_.

He knew exactly where to cut, exactly where to shock and surprise and break.

They're just words, she thought, as lies were stripped away and the truth came pouring out over the broken dam. But words never saved anybody.

So she told him what he wanted to know.

Katara grew up on Kyoshi Island. No, she'd been found washed up on the beach. Yes, she was technically an orphan. Yes, she was a descendent of the Water Tribes.

Yes, she was a Water bender.

Yes, she had been raised by the rulers of the Island, the minds behind the rebel attack against the Empire. She had been trained as a Kyoshi Warrior, and been sent here to spy on the Fire Empire and yes, to kill the Emperor.

How often she'd rendezvoused with the rebels in the time she'd spent with the Elites. Katara told about how she'd talked to Lori the day she'd joined the Elites (Lt. Ensei swore here).

She told him how she'd been there when Warrior Yuhao had committed suicide rather than be tortured by the Empire. She remembered seeing Warrior Kian in the forest; Hiro's death she brushed over, tried not to probe to hard because she knew it would be so easy for that wound to start bleeding again. And she told him about meeting Makito in the village yesterday, how she'd found out the existence of the Avatar on Kyoshi Island, and it was a girl this time, a baby girl.

The Elites heard it. The Emperor heard it. Zhao wanted them to hear it, and they did, laid out in front of her like a ghastly parade of lies and faults and I am so fucking sorry.

When she hesitated in telling Zhao anything, he hit her and told her to make sure she was telling the truth or somebody would be getting a fireball in the face.

Katara told Zhao about the rebels and her mission so that he wouldn't kill any of the Elites or Zuko. She revealed everything to keep them from death. She betrayed them in order to save them. Even now, even at the end of it all, she protected them. It was her job to keep the Emperor alive.

When it had been her job to kill him.

That irony was more painful than the bruises and cuts on her body from Zhao's beating.

After the draining of her words, her blood, Zhao laughed again, one last, long time, and had her untied from the chair. The guards shoved her into a cell across the room from the Elites and the Emperor. She lay on the cold floor where they'd dropped her, limp, unmoving, and bleeding.

"It's for your own protection," Zhao smirked, slamming the door shut on her.

Then he left the dungeon with his lackeys, leaving behind her words to swell in the air around her and the Elites.

When he left they talked to her.

"You weren't lying, were you," said Lt. Ensei.

Katara didn't answer. Her head rested on the chill stone, eyes staring at the damp ceiling above her. She couldn't feel her left arm.

Lt. Ensei began to swear, a long roll of profanity and curses. Qin and Faozu, and Oran joined in with vehemence.

But the ones who didn't speak were the ones she couldn't look at. Kaz. Zuko.

Somewhere along the way, she lost consciousness.

She didn't dream. Sleep was a black silence.

* * *

**A/N: **Not much to say. This was a hard chapter to write. Hardest ever. 

Oh, and thanks for telling me about the magical reappearance of !dead Hiro last chapter. That was stupid of me, because as far as I know, ghosts don't exist in the Avatar world. I suck at life. I shall go fix that now.

I'm not going to be answering a lot of the questions because most of them were probably answered by this chapter.

**is there going to be a sequel? -hppartygirl**  
No sequel.

**Also, for the creepy factor, you live just about 4 hours away from me. I'm on the other side of the Cascades. -chorse**  
Boo-yah for Washingtonians.

**You're a very inspiring person. -Khazia**  
You are a very inspiring reviewer. People like you make me write more and better.

**More of the memory beginning to burst forth, breaking free of the lock and key it was put under by the process of dying and being reborn. Destined to find each other again and fall in love again--it's a thing of beauty, really. And quite a bit of sappiness that makes you want to vomit. But a bit more of the beauty part of things. -gladdecease**  
You're so damn quotable. And awesome. Exactly my thoughts.

Chapter title from the song "Silence" by Delerium, feat. Sarah McLachlan.


	17. Reunion

**Chapter 17: Reunion**

When she woke, there was a charred scent in the air. Katara blinked blindly, the gray smoke obscuring her vision and stinging her eyes.

Raising her head from the cold stone with effort, she peered through the dim lighting to see the Elites and the Emperor on their feet, staring through the bars at the smoke coming through the crack under the door leading back upstairs. Shouts and screams and the clash of metal against metal reached their ears. Had rebels attacked the fort while she was unconscious?

"It would be seriously fucked up if we burned to death down here," said Lt. Ensei.

Katara stared at the door, hoping she wouldn't have to die today. There wasn't much left to live for, but the things that were still there tugged at her insides. Sokka. Suyan.

They stayed down there, on edge, for an hour or more. Frequent blasts shook the walls, probably Fire benders attempting to defend themselves. Then the earth shifted under them; had the rebels brought escaped Earth benders with them this time?

The Elites held onto the cell bars. Katara could barely sit up, her ribs aching from Zhao's beating.

Then the door opened.

A green figure ducked in, took a look at the surroundings, and saw two cells filled with Fire Empire Elites. He turned to go, but not before Katara took a chance.

"Warrior!" she called, in a raspy voice. "Warrior!"

He turned back, a white, painted face, and she recognized Kian.

"Katara?" he asked incredulously, hands still taut on his sword. His eyes darted to the Elites behind him and his face was dismayed. He thought he had just destroyed her cover.

She shook her head. "They already know."

Outside the sounds of battled filtered in, but inside the dungeons, it was dead silent.

The door opened wider, and eight more green warriors slid in. She spied four Earth benders among them.

"Holy shit," swore Lt. Ensei.

"We'll get you out, Katara," said Kian, ignoring the Fire soldiers. Kian made a motion with one hand and two of the Earth benders moved forward, bending and buckling the stone underneath the bars of the cage to create an opening large enough for Katara to crawl through.

She dragged herself forward, but her body protested. Face grim, Kian ducked underneath the twisted bars to help pull her out. Katara hissed as bruises and cuts scraped the ground, and Kian muttered, "Sorry, but we gotta move quick."

Katara nodded in agreement, understanding the need for haste. A crash sounded somewhere above them, and the entire structure of the fort shuddered. Dust and clods of dirt rained down on them from the dungeons' low ceiling. It was coming down, and soon.

The group headed for the door

The cells were silent behind her. The rebels didn't give the imprisoned Elites a second look.

Katara stopped limping, and pulled back on Kian's arm. "Please release them. Please."

"You're crazy," Kian said, eyes forward, pulling her along.

"Kian. You can't leave them here to die like caged animals."

"I can and I will."

"Fuck, Kian!" She knew she was wasting what precious time she did have, but she could feel six fiery gazes on her back. They wouldn't beg, and so she would beg for them.

"We don't have time!" Kian roared. "They'll fight!"

"They won't, Kian. None of them can bend," At least for the moment, thought Katara, "they'll come quietly."

Ignoring Kian's thunderous glare, Katara turned back to look at the Elites and the Emperor, saying, "They'll let you out but don't fight, don't fight. They'll kill you, just come on—"

One of the warriors nodded, and the Earth benders destroyed the prisons. The Elites shuffled out warily, Lt. Ensei in the lead with the Emperor next to him. The Fire Empire men exchanged alien looks with the Earth benders. A century of hatred and prejudice and violence filled the space between them. To the Earth benders, these were their cruel masters, the ones who broke them down and deserved nothing more than a painful death. To the Fire Elites, the Earth benders were stupid criminals good for nothing more than back-breaking slave work.

But the Elites didn't struggle or fight against the rebels. They knew it would be pointless here—they were outnumbered, over two to one, without weapons, without Fire bending, and Kaz wasn't even trained to fight.

"Fight back and we'll kill you," said one of the rebels, shoving her sword towards their faces. Kaz flinched. They filed out slowly and passively, although there was no lack of distrustful glares between the two parties. The Emperor kept his head down, trying to hide his face-

"Wait," said Kian, eyes sharpening. Katara's heart fell.

"You!" snapped the Kyoshi leader. "You in the back! Let me see your face."

The Emperor's shoulders tensed, and Katara knew what he was going to do a second before he moved. "No!" she said, reaching out, but he had already snapped around, bringing down a rebel with his legs, and then he was a whirling form of movement. "Stop!" she said again, even though she knew it wouldn't change anything.

The cells erupted into chaos. Kian yelled, "The Emperor! Get him!" and the Elites jumped into the fray, desperate to protect their monarch. Even Kaz attempted to punch a rebel before he was kicked into the wall, unconscious. Swords were drawn, earth shifted, and the Elites fought with just their fists. It was a maelstrom of violence and misunderstanding. She had to stop it before someone was killed.

She bent down, picked up a dropped sword, and pushed through, sliding along the wall, to the back where she could see Zuko fighting Kian and two other rebels. He was holding his own, trying to beat them off and get to the door. It was hopeless. Kian's face was murderous; this was a chance too good to pass up--the Kyoshian's mortal enemy was here, right in front of them, outnumbered, weakened, and completely at his mercy.

Katara lunged for Zuko, and he turned around. For a split second, his face was one of relief, like he thought she was here to help him. Then his expression changed, he remembered, he _knew-_

Katara slammed the hilt of her sword into his skull.

Zuko dropped to the ground, limp and unconscious.

Everybody froze.

"It would be better," Katara said nervously, "it would be better if we took him alive."

"You bitch!" snarled Oran, and he leapt at her, but two rebels tackled him to the ground. The Elites stared at her in horror.

Katara looked away.

Kian nodded slowly, understanding her meaning. The Elites were quickly apprehended. They were completely outnumbered, and they knew it.

"Tie their arms, just in case," Kian instructed.

Two rebels hauled the unconscious Emperor's body up. Pushing the Elites in front of them, the rebels shoved them all up the stairs, into the blazing inferno that was now the Luxing Fort.

"Hurry," snapped Kian, pulling Katara's arm over his shoulders to support her as they ran.

They reached the upper levels, and Katara was shocked to see green warriors swarming everywhere with bright swords and arrows, and almost as many Earth benders battling the few remaining Fire soldiers.

The rebels form into a group around Kian, Katara, and the Elites.

Swords flashed, and Fire soldiers who tried to attack them were cut down. Katara wasn't sure why none of the Elites bothered to help or attempt to escape.

Kian had the same thought, and shot the Elites a poisonous look. "Try to escape, and it'll cost me _nothing_ if one of you dies," he snarled.

None of them said anything, not even Lt. Ensei. They wouldn't leave without the Emperor, and he was currently unconscious and in the hands of the rebels. Besides, this entire fort was filled with minions and lackeys of that bastard Zhao; to the Elites, they and the Emperor were the only ones here _truly_ loyal to the Empire. Everybody else was a traitorous shit, as far as they were concerned.

The group broke into a side passage and the warriors checked the empty rooms for more enemies while Katara leaned against the wall, trying to keep upright. Her left arm with afire with pain; Zhao must have broken it. Her entire body was a mass of bruises and cuts. Nothing she could do about it right now, except to keep moving and try to ignore it all.

They broke into the dimming sunlight, onto the wall of the fort that rose above the beach. The water below them stretched away, and Katara could see the mid-sized boat that the Kyoshians had taken here, tied to the small dock.

All of a sudden the Lt. Ensei broke from the circle behind her, and launched himself towards the edge of the wall.

"Zhao!" he roared towards several figures below them, hurriedly mounting horses.

The rebels reacted and pulled him roughly back to keep him from escaping. Kian narrowed his eyes and made no comment, but pointed, and the rebels drew their bows to shoot down the Admiral and his soldiers as they kicked their horses to gallop away. One man was hit, and screaming, fell off his horse onto the dirt.

But the Admiral, as he escaped, shot one last look over his shoulder at Katara. Her entire body went cold at the eye contact.

And she knew she would be seeing him again.

* * *

Luxing Fort burned to the ground behind them as the rebels prodded their new prisoners along the dock and into the ship. Katara watched as the Emperor and the Elites were immediately shoved into the brig in the hold of the boat, with Lt. Ensei mouthing off every chance he got. He received a few new bruises from the rebels for his trouble, until the hatch was finally closed and his voice shut off. 

Katara watched Kian help the wounded back on board. Other warriors carried the dead bodies of their fellow fighters back. She counted as many heads as possible while they were all moving. As much as fifty warriors were here, with a little under a third of them hurt or dead. So many for one mission. Had the Mistress authorized this trip? What had been the goal? Had they possibly known that she had been captured? Was it a rescue mission?

"That man," Kian said, voice clipped, joining her at the railing. "That was the Emperor, wasn't it?"

Her throat was dry. "Yes." No use in denying it.

"Why didn't he Firebend, and try to escape us?"

"He can't, right now," said Katara. "Admiral Zhao drugged him so he couldn't Firebend."

"Why did you stop me from killing him?" Kian's voice was direct and didn't allow her to dodge anything. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" and she still tried to escape.

"You wanted to keep him alive," said Kian. "When it was _your_ job in the first place to assassinate him! What happened? Are you _friends_ now? Maybe you even _love_ him?" His tone made a mockery of her.

"No," said Katara desperately. "No. He doesn't trust me anymore. None of them do." It was always about what they felt, and never about her.

"I don't care what you try to say, Katara," said Kian, turning his face away. His voice was iron cold. "Obviously something went on down in that dungeon that I know nothing about. What I do know is that it involved you, the Emperor, and Admiral Zhao. Maybe it was a confession, and you got beat up in the process when the truth came out. And maybe it was a nice chat with a hot cup of tea."

"Kian—"

"I don't want to know what you did," said Kian, walking away. "I have no authority with which to punish you—your story is for the Mistress to hear, and for her to judge." He stopped before going down the stairs into the ship's hold. "But I must say our capture of the Emperor is an unexpected bonus."

Katara stared at his back.

"He will be very useful in the coming negotiations. The Mistress will be… _happy_ to see him."

Her heart sank.

"And she'll be happy to see you."

With that, Kian left and Katara slumped against the side of the ship, holding her broken arm to her stomach. Maybe she could get a healer to look at it later, when the more seriously wounded had been tended to. Hopefully sooner than later.

Because it hurt more than it was supposed to.

* * *

"This is great," snapped Lt. Ensei in the darkness of the hold. "Just fucking great." 

Zuko woke up slowly, his head leaned against the wooden bulkhead. Where was he? A ship of some kind; the rocking motion beneath him combined with his blasted headache told him enough. He was alone in a cell by himself; the Elites were in the one across from his, separated by bars and the narrow hallway.

"I can't believe it," said Qin. "I can't believe Katara… I can't believe it."

"Same," said Faozu, shaking his head.

"You're all fools," said Oran coldly from his corner. His voice was disdainful. "You've been working with her for, what, almost a year, and none of you suspected _anything_?"

In a flash, Oran was pinned to the wall with Lt. Ensei's snarling expression staring him in the face.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," said Ensei, giving him a shake. "Absolutely no fucking idea. So keep your mouth shut before I shut it for you, soldier."

Lt. Ensei let Oran go, and the younger man slid down the wall, coming to a rest on the dirty floor.

"I don't want to go to Kyoshi," said Kaz softly.

"Kyoshi?" Zuko said aloud.

"We're on their stupid ship," said Qin flatly. "They got us."

"Why aren't I dead?" asked Zuko. "Why didn't they kill me? They knew who I was."

The brig was silent for a moment before Lt. Ensei spoke up again, uncharacteristically calm.

"Katara knocked you out, before that rebel leader could put a sword through you," said Ensei.

"Why?"

Lt. Ensei shrugged, face becoming ugly again. "Don't ask me how a rebel thinks," he snapped. "She's obviously deranged."

"And a good actress," Kaz whispered.

"A damn good one," said Ensei. "and I'd kill her for it, if I could."

Kaz looked away. "She saved us."

"She did bullshit!"

"She could have let Zhao kill us, you know," the younger boy said, shaky voice slowly becoming more confident. "She could have let Zhao kill us but she told him everything! She didn't have to, and it blew her cover, and the rebels probably want to kill her now too, but she saved us!"

"Don't pretend like you know anything about war, kid," said Ensei. "You don't know the first thing—"

Kaz broke through, eyes bright. "You're not even _listening_ to anything I'm saying!"

"—don't you dare talk back to me, you insolent son of a—"

"You won't admit that what I say makes sense, because it'll keep you from your self-righteous anger, and you—you'd rather _hate_ than try to understand!" Kaz burst out.

Ensei turned his back on them and said nothing.

The hold of the ship was silent again, except for Kaz's soft sniffling.

Zuko stared up at the grimy ceiling and thought that he himself was very much like Ensei—he didn't want to listen to Kaz's convoluted reasoning.

Because like Kaz had said, hating was so much easier than understanding.

* * *

Lt. Ensei shook the damp metal bars of their cell. They rattled, but didn't come loose. The rebel soldier at the end of the hall turned towards them and raised his sword. "Stop that," he said. 

"Or what, you'll chop off my head?" Lt. Ensei snarled back.

"Don't try me," said the warrior calmly. He pointed his sword towards the Emperor. "_He's_ the only one we really need. The rest of you are just baggage."

"Then why are you keeping us here?" shouted Oran, standing up and coming over to the bars next to Ensei. "Why did you take us with you?"

The nameless warrior shrugged. "Katara wanted you kept alive, for some reason." His tone of voice told them that Katara's reasons were unknown to him.

"You don't have to listen to her! She doesn't even have any rank!" Oran seemed beyond reason.

The warrior stared at him. "Her brother will be the next Master of Kyoshi Island. She is very important to us."

They were surprised. "Her _brother_?" repeated Faozu.

"She betrayed you, you know," Oran said snidely. "She told every secret from that traitorous mouth of hers. We know everything."

The warrior shrugged and turned his back on them. "Like I would trust anything _you_ say." He left to take up his position at the end of the narrow hallway again.

* * *

The healer was a tired, grimy, and bloody man who did the best his shaking hands could do to splint Katara's broken arm. 

When he left, Katara examined it and thought that maybe instead of having wasted the healer's time, she could have fixed her arm by herself, like she'd done with Gian back in the army hospital.

But it seemed like too much effort.

And she thought she sort of deserved the pain. It made the guilt easier to bear.

Instead of focusing on what she'd done and what she'd said, she could think about how her arm ached, how it pained her to move, how breaking it had been the least thing Zhao could have done to destroy her. How it—

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," she said, raising her head from the small cot.

Kian opened it and came in before closing it behind him.

"We went with Admiral Zhao's idea," he said first, sitting down on the cot next to her, "and we're drugging the Emperor's water with Guozhe. It'll keep his Firebending out of the picture and him under control."

"That's not what you came to tell me," she answered.

"You're right," he said slowly, after a bit of silence. " I would prefer—I would prefer it if you stayed here for the duration of the trip back to Kyoshi."

"What?"

"To be exact," said Kian, "I don't want you visiting the Fire soldiers in the brig. Especially not the Emperor."

Katara stared at him.

"I don't want you trying to explain yourself to them," Kian continued. "I don't want you to feel guilty."

A bit late for that, Katara thought. Maybe you could have taken that into account before the Mistress sent me on this fucked mission.

"You should stay here and rest," he said. "I won't lock the door, because I trust you."

He left, and Katara lay back down to sleep.

* * *

"Are you sure you're supposed to be here?" the guard asked worriedly, sneaking a glance over Katara's shoulder. 

She cradled her broken arm to her chest. "Yes," she lied. "Kian said I could."

"I don't—" the guard stumbled. "I don't know if I should let you—"

"You should," Katara reassured him. "I need to ask them a few things about confidential information. Privately. It's important to the Mistress."

Those were the magic words. The guard knew who she was; how important to the island people she was. He stepped aside, and let her descend down the stairs into the dark. He closed the door behind her.

Every step Katara took down into the hold made her chest tighten with anxiety. Fear. They didn't want to see her. She didn't want to see them. Why was she doing this? Why was she purposefully disobeying Kian's orders, and going against his wishes to see a group of people who most likely wanted her dead? Maybe she was trying to punish herself.

"Isn't it time for you to feed us?" called Lt. Ensei, as soon as the Elites heard her footsteps.

She stopped.

"We're hungry!" said Qin. "I thought you said we were to be kept alive!"

She said nothing.

"Where are we going?" called Kaz, "Where are we—"

Somebody shushed him.

And Katara knew that by her silence, they had realized who she was.

Nobody said anything.

"You have a lot of nerve coming down here," Lt. Ensei's low voice eventually drifted out, disturbing the darkness. "A lot of fucking nerve."

Katara swallowed, and clutched her arm closer to her body. Now she was here, she didn't know what to say.

"Maybe you should leave," said Oran, "before we do anything drastic."

"What can we do?" snapped Kaz. She couldn't see any of them. "We're stuck in a cell, with no weapons, no fire, no—"

"Katara," somebody said from behind her.

She turned around, and could see glimmering gold in the darkness of the cell. So he was here, kept by himself. Like a caged animal. Untrustworthy. Dangerous.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, until her nose was almost touching one of the bars.

"What?" she said softly.

A blur moved, and she knew what was coming before it hit (but she would take it because she deserved it she did)—

His fist slammed into her face, pain exploded behind her eyes, and she let herself fall to the floor.

"Get out," he said, voice calm and controlled. "Don't make me look at you again."

She stumbled back up the stairs, past the confused guard, and into her room.

When Kian saw her at dinner, his eyes lingered on the bruise, but he said nothing.

* * *

It was early dawn when Kyoshi Island was sighted. 

When the call was circulated around the ship, everybody, warriors and sailors and cooks and healers alike, grew excited and movements became hurried, smiles appeared. They were relieved and happy to be getting home. But this gaiety was interposed by the somberness and anguish that came with breaking the news to families of warriors who had fallen in battle. They stood on the shore, the people of Kyoshi, desperate to see that one special person—father, mother, brother, sister, daughter, son, and lover—come home to their arms.

What some of them would be getting was a dead body, all that was left of a loved one.

Katara hid in her room.

When Kian brought her the news that they would be arriving on the Island in less than an hour, she merely turned her back on him and faced the wall, still lying on the cot. She heard him sigh, and then leave, the door clicking shut behind him.

How long had she been homesick for Kyoshi, lying in the cold army barracks of the Fire Empire? How often had she felt alone and strange, far from family and those she loved?

Her body _ached_, sometimes, just for a glimpse of Sokka's face, of Suki's smile, of her island home.

Now, she no longer needed, or wanted, anything.

She just waited. Waited for judgment, waited for forgiveness.

* * *

Kian stepped down first, to a loud cheer and rumble of applause and happiness from the crowd assembled on the beach. 

The returning warriors came next, everybody rushing forward to find their best friend, their father, their lover, their darling child—

Those who couldn't find their loved ones watched in shock as the bodies were solemnly carried down from the ship deck. Families broke down sobbing, or denied it all by standing there, in the sand, and saying, "Impossible, impossible," over and over again.

Then the Emperor was lead out, with an entourage of six warriors around him.

The noise on the beach died down slowly as everybody realized who was in their midst.

He passed them all, head held high, refusing to look anyone in the eye or break down. The sun illuminated his scar, and hundreds of eyes fixated on the brilliant red color.

As he was lead away to a holding room, a malicious cheer began to rise. Kyoshi Island was triumphant. They had the leader of the enemy; the Fire Emperor of the world, the ultimate key to their freedom, and his country probably didn't even know where he was. Fists raised in the air, warriors congratulated each other, and mothers wept happy tears for the children they wouldn't have to send to war, if all things went well. As Zuko disappeared beyond the sandy hill, jubilant cries went up.

It was to this welcoming crowd that Katara appeared. Faces turned, surprised and shocked, eyes squinting through sunlight at the person standing on deck. A figure dressed in Fire Empire soldier uniform! Black from head to toe, grimy with dirt and sweat and blood. Who was this? An escaped Fire Elite! Why weren't the warriors apprehending him?

She walked down the gangplank to a confused, muttering crowd. As she drew closer, the ones in the front began to recognize her.

"Is that—is that who I think it is?"

"The Waterbender girl? The one who left?"

"Is it Katara?"

"Somebody get Master Sokka, quick!"

"Tell Sokka! Hurry!"

And all of a sudden he was there, on the rise above to the beach.

He looked down, she looked up, and their eyes connected over the gulf of unsaid words, long-ago childhoods, and the utter_ ache_ of abscence and longing.

Sokka tore down the hill, and then she was in his arms, breathing him in, feeling him warm around her. Then something released, and she was crying, crying everything she hated and loved and just wanted to forget. He was speaking to her, murmuring something into her hair, that it was alright, she was back, she was safe, and it was going to be perfect.

Katara broke away, laughing through her tears, and reached up to feel her brother's face. It was the same face, the same eyes, but there was a difference there too. The planes were harder, matured, and there was _stubble_ on his jaw!

He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

"Welcome home, Katara."

* * *

Zuko watched through the stolid forms of his captors as Katara embraced the strange man. She was touching his face, he was speaking to her, the entire beach erupted in a happy cheer. She was crying, and smiling, and _living_— 

And he realized he'd never known her at all.

These people here were the ones who knew her. The ones who'd raised her, laughed with her, and loved her. Her brother, her best friend, her family. She'd had a real life before going to the Fire Empire and joining the Elites. It was hard to believe, but here it was, the evidence in front of his eyes.

"It makes _me_ want to cry," one of his guards said gruffly to another, "just seeing the Master and his sister together again." The other warriors nodded in agreement.

So the man was Katara's brother, the famed new leader of the Kyoshians.

And this, more than anything, erased any doubt Zuko had left about Katara's true loyalties.

Before, in some dark part of himself, he'd harbored a secret fantasy that maybe it had all been a bad dream. That it had been a conspiracy, some kind of convoluted plot with an obscure goal that would eventually make sense to all of them. That maybe Katara had just been acting, that she was still loyal to him, that she still-

And when he'd punched her in the darkness of the brig on the ship, he'd hoped that he could have provoked an reaction from her. He imagined that she would have jumped up, snarling in his face, yelling that he had no right to abuse a true soldier of the Fire Empire!

Instead, she'd merely stood without saying anything and left.

It hollowed him, the realization that there was no hope left.

He was a prisoner of the rebels, and would most likely be killed as soon as judgment was passed and a ceremony of some sort was arranged.

He watched the tableau unfolding on the beach; a touching reunion. A woman dressed in green, with short brown hair, ran through the crowd, holding something to her side that he couldn't see from his position.

Katara's brother drew the newcomer in close, and kissed the top of her head. His wife, then. The two women, Katara and her sister-in-law, hugged each other. There was a look of happy surprise on Katara's tear-stained face; she reached for the bundle in the other woman's arms, and lifted up—

A baby girl.

* * *

"Meet your aunt, Suyan," Suki said, smiling as Katara cradled her niece carefully, "Meet your Aunt Katara." 

"So this is the Avatar," Katara crooned, laughing as the baby waved tiny fists in the air and gurgled happily. "Absolutely adorable."

Sokka smiled proudly, but it was stiff and worried. "Yes," he said, trying to make up for his expression. "Creating mini-earthquakes in the garden, setting her crib on fire, among other things."

Suki, eyes shadowed, reached for Suyan again. Katara willingly gave up the baby. The warrior mother cuddled her daughter close, hands tight and arms encircling her darling child.

"The Empire's looking for her," Katara said softly.

"They don't know where she is," Sokka said, holding his wife and child close. "They don't know she's our daughter."

Katara looked away from the happy father, the joyful mother, the innocent child.

"Katara?" Sokka persisted. "What's wrong?"

She was dirty—unclean _everywhere_—not fit to come back to this happy family, this blessed life that she no longer deserved.

"_Katara?_"

She would taint them with her bloody hands, and she would destroy them with her weakness.

She already had.

"They know she's here," she answered her brother, and her voice broke. "They know she's here, Sokka."

* * *

**A/N: **Not much to say. Um, I accidentally forgot to save the 2nd half of this chapter, and I had to rewrite the entire thing after I discovered what I did. It was incredibly fucked up, and I felt like killing somebody, but it turned out alright, I guess. That's why the update took so long. 

Q&A Time:

**Have you seen the Waterbending Master episode 18? -waterbenderkatara**  
It kicked so much ass. Katara equals Win.

** Why no sequel, huh? -hppartygirl**  
Because I have no plans for one, and this story _is_ a sequel to my other story, The Hunter and The Prey, although it can be read as a separate fic.

**How many more chapters until this story ends? -mtm123**  
If I tell you, won't that kind of ruin it for you?

** I live in Seattle! Cool. Small world it is.-MereImage**  
Ooh! Maybe we've even passed each other on the street and not even known it! XD

**URBANESQUE- **Your well thought-out comments have been duly noted, and thank you for taking the time to explain to me your views on the possibility of a happy ending. I will take everything you said into account- it made me think.

**AIRBENDER-** You too. I accept your review as honest criticism, and not as a flame. XD Thank you. I know you think Katara was OOC in terms of revealing everything to save Zuko and betray Kyoshi, but I believe that it was, to me, in character of her. She is an incredibly emotionally-driven person, as we see on the show, and it can be a horrible weakness, as we saw in Chapter 16. She'll do anything to save the people she cares about (which includes both her new friends and old family) But while it can be a weakness, it can also be her greatest strengh, this ability she has to empathize and feel. Still, I understand your point-of-view, and thank you very much.

Plot twist. Review and tell me what you think? XD


	18. You Remind Me Of Me

**Chapter 18: You Remind Me Of Me**

"Welcome home, Katara."

Katara's eyes traced the Mistress's face. Not much had changed in the features of the Kyoshi leader during Katara's absence. But the things that _had_ aged were much more apparent because of this: fine lines appeared around the eyes, the mouth, in the forehead. Up close, Katara could see how sometimes the white paint didn't fully cover these signs of aging—how old was the Mistress now? Fifty? Bordering sixty? Her husband had died around the same time Katara had left.

Sooner than later, it would fall to Sokka and Suki to lead Kyoshi on.

On into _what_, was the uncertain part.

The part that had been Katara's job to figure out. Or, more to the point, _define_, what with her world-changing mission. Which she had so conveniently failed to accomplish.

"You didn't kill him," the Mistress said.

Katara swallowed. Sokka and Suki were silent, still presences at her sides. It was the four of them in that dim room, the Mistress on one side of the low table and the three younger warriors on the other.

I remember this, Katara thought. I remember when we came in here, sat like this, and talked about _me_. Except it had been about my Waterbending, something that completely changed my life.

As this will.

"No, I didn't," Katara replied.

"But you brought him back alive," said the Mistress, calm brown eyes moving on to rest on Sokka's face. He gave a tiny, affirmative nod. "The Emperor of Fire. He is currently being held in one of our imprisonment houses, I expect?"

Sokka nodded again.

"Under maximum guard."

"Twenty warriors for the Emperor and the Fire Elites on day and night duty," said Sokka.

Katara didn't like Sokka sounding so subservient.

The Mistress said, "He'll be useful, I'm sure. Maybe you didn't fail this mission as spectacularly as I had originally thought, Katara."

All she could do was nod.

"We'll get all the information we can from him first," the Mistress said. "Then we'll try to ransom him back to his country. If they don't want him back—which I find highly unlikely—then we'll have to kill him. Either way, we win. We have the upper hand now.

"But seeing as it is your fault in the first place that we have to deal with this problem," the Mistress stared hard at Katara, "then it will be your job, and your punishment, to extract this information from the Emperor. If all else fails, then it will be your turn, yet again, to kill him."

All Katara could do was nod.

"I'm sure you won't fail this time," said the Mistress. "The mere fact that I'm offering you a second chance should be enough to impart upon you the importance of this decision."

* * *

Suki found Katara curled up on the beach, the rising tide lapping at the bottoms of her bare feet. 

"Remember we used to practice here all the time?" Suki said, settling on the sand next to Katara, and putting the giggling Suyan down so she could crawl around and play. The Waterbender's face was tucked between her knees, hidden from the world. "You, and me, and Sokka."

Katara was silent.

"Such good memories," Suki sighed, and permitted herself a faint smile at her daughter's antics, who was picking up grubby fistfuls of sand before letting it drift away in the wind. "And you're home again. Aren't you happy to be home again?" She rested a hand on Katara's curled back.

No answer, and then: "You should hate me," Katara said flatly.

Suki drew her hand away. "Hate you for what? For saving our lives?"

"For destroying Suyan's."

Suki was silent for a moment. "If I said that I was completely fine with what you did, giving up Suyan's identity to that Fire Admiral—"

"Then you'd be lying," Katara said, finishing for Suki.

Suki nodded. "Yes. I would. But I can truthfully say that I do feel a little—a little—"

"Betrayed?" Katara cut in. "Mad? Pissed? Angry as hell?"

Suki continued. "—a little relieved."

Katara paused for a moment. "Relieved?"

Suki laughed shortly. "You think I didn't know this would happen eventually? It was a constant, draining worry, every morning waking up wondering if the Fire Navy was going to arrive _today_ to kill my daughter, and now that it _has_ happened, I'm relieved that I'm no longer thinking _'what if'_, but _'when'_. I knew it was going to happen, sooner or later." She shifted restlessly on the sand, "I'm not stupid, Katara. I may have fallen in love with your brother, something I'm not sure you're still okay with—"

"I'm completely okay with it!"

"—and gotten pregnant, and given birth to my own baby girl, but that doesn't reduce me to a doddering, middle-aged, glass-eyed housewife."

"I never said you were—"

"Yes, but it's there in your tone." Suki said, gaze clear. Katara looked away. "You may be out there saving lives and fighting the enemy and getting scarred and bruised and hurt in ways unimaginable, sacrificing your entire self in the process, but that doesn't make you more _experienced_ than me, Katara." There was no trace of jealousy or even the least bit of bitterness in Suki's voice—she was calm, unrelentingly truthful, laying out the facts for both of them to see.

"I don't think of it that way, Suki," Katara said softly.

Suyan sat back in the sand and laughed as the wind ruffled her soft, brown wisps of baby hair.

Suki sighed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I let this out on you. You've been through things I could never imagine, horrible things that you probably don't want to talk about, or relive again—"

Katara smiled, weak but true. "Nothing as bad compared to what _you_ had to go through."

"Hm?"

"Childbirth. How was it?"

"The most fucking painful thing I've ever experienced in my life."

Katara laughed, loud and ringing. "Was it worth it?"

And both of their eyes focused on Suyan; such a tiny _child._ Was this really the Avatar, the one who held the weight of the world on her shoulders? She looked back at them, clear, liquid brown eyes solemn, like she already knew it and she was ready—she'd been ready since the day she was born.

Suki smiled softly. "Yes."

* * *

Sokka slid open the wooden screen door, while Suki stood behind him, holding Suyan on her hip. Katara took a deep breath, and stepped into the house. 

Warm, earthy scents swelled in her mind—smells of _home_—and she noticed the little things that had changed while she was gone. The rearrangement of the low table n the main room where they took meals, and more pillows scattered around, probably for the baby's safety.

"It's our house now," said Sokka softly, shrugging off his outer heavy robe and hanging it on a small peg in the wall. "The Mistress moved out soon after Suki gave birth."

Katara moved through the house, touching the walls, and saw that one ink mark she and Sokka had made on the wood of the floor when they had discovered the joys of _ink_ and _reading_ and _writing_. They'd been discovered, and punished—after two hours of scrubbing they still couldn't remove the black stain. It was still there, a memory of _Yes, I lived here once._

_And now I'm back_.

"Your room," said Sokka, and he pushed back the door. Katara walked in, dropping her bag slowly on the ground. A weak ray of sunlight flashed through the window, illuminating the golden dust in the air.

Suki stepped in behind her, surveying the empty, still room. "You can stay with us for as long as you like," she said, and set the wiggling Suyan on the floor.

"Not that you'd _want_ to," Sokka said, cracking a smile, "with Suyan's crying, after one night, you'll find that you'd rather sleep on the beach than in this noisy house."

Katara turned, and picked up Suyan, kissing her baby-soft cheek. "I'll stay," said Katara, and the Avatar beamed up at her.

* * *

Later that day, Suki accompanied Katara to the communal bathhouse fed by the natural hot springs. The other women were shy at first, after learning about where Katara had been and what she had been doing, but eventually old acquaintances were remade, news exchanged, with Suki doing most of the talking and explaining while Katara lay back in the water, enjoying the soft chatter of the women and the soothing warmth of the bath. 

Blood and dirt and grime she scrubbed off, with Suki hissing sympathetically at scars and bruises and her broken arm. Katara pulled out her braid, and sighed happily as she ran the aromatic soap through her hair and over her body.

"Not much opportunity to take care of yourself while in the Elites, I suppose?" Suki said wryly, half-submerged in the water as Katara relaxed.

"Nothing like this," said Katara, smoothing back her hair. "Nothing like home."

When they reemerged from the bath, Katara automatically reached for her black uniform, lying on the floor next to her towel.

Suki's hand stopped her before Katara could touch it.

"You don't have to wear that anymore," Suki said softly, looking Katara in the eyes and drawing both their hands away.

"But—" and Katara didn't know what she was arguing for.

"It's dirty, and ripped, and covered in blood," Suki continued, taking Katara's arms and raising her up from her crouched position. "We'll burn it later. Don't think about it."

It was pathetic really, the worn black cloth lying in a heap on the ground. It wasn't even so black anymore—more a washed out gray, faded remains of something she would never have to deal with again. She wouldn't even have to _think_ about it, as Suki had said. No more worrying at all.

She turned, gently guided by Suki, and dressed instead, in a clean, green robe with a simple darker green pattern that had belonged to her sister-in-law, and tied it snugly around her waist. It was light, and fitted her comfortably, flowing down to cover her legs in a loose skirt. How long since she last wore a skirt, and not the black pants of the Elites? Oh yes. At the Lady Adia's party.

That party, where she'd danced with the Emperor Zuko, and _Admiral Zhao_, and she'd seen that strange painting in the hall, the one that looked like her and him together—

"Are you ready to go?" Suki smiled at the woman who had been watching Suyan, and picked her daughter up in her arms before turning back to Katara.

Katara nodded.  
"Good," Suki said, and handed Suyan to Katara, and pushing her gently out the door of the bathhouse. "You wait outside for me. I'll take care of your old clothes and then we'll find Sokka and have some sort of lunch."

Katara stood outside, holding Suyan in her arms, taking most of the weight on her unbroken one. After awhile, a small stream of gray smoke came through the opening in the stove room of the bathhouse.

Katara thought she hated the smell of burning things.

A few minutes later, Suki came out, brushing her hands off. "Let's go."

* * *

Zuko stood outside, surrounded by warriors, his hands chained together in front of him. The Elites stood not far off, with their own guards. They weren't allowed to mingle on their daily trips outside—the Kyoshians knew better than to give the Fire Emperor and his soldiers a chance to hatch a conspiracy for an escape. 

The fact that they were allowed a daily walk outside at all spoke volumes about the Kyoshians' treatment of their enemy prisoners. Zuko's cell was clean and had a small window and cot along with a blanket and pillow. Meals were brought three times a day, and while it wasn't exactly gourmet food, it was edible and filling and not poisoned, which was the most important part. Their imprisonment was undeniably humane and gentle; what Zuko and the Elites had in their cells (a place to sleep, a roof over their heads, and daily meals) was more than some of the poorer, free citizens of the Empire could claim for themselves.

Zuko knew for a fact that had one of the Kyoshi Warriors been imprisoned in the Empire, conditions there would have been much less comfortable.

Zuko shifted slightly, lifting his head to feel the slight, salty breeze from the ocean, and caught a look from one of his guards. The young warrior's eyes lingered on Zuko's scar—when he saw the Emperor looking back at him, he quickly blushed and turned away. He couldn't have been more than sixteen; seventeen at the most.

Zuko, unperturbed, looked away as well and something caught in the corner of his vision.

Two women, dressed in similar green robes, one holding a small child, were walking away from one of the buildings in the village complex, towards the other side of the empty square. Their path took them directly across Zuko and his guards.

What Zuko noticed was the woman holding the child. He didn't recognize her at first. And when he did, he wished he hadn't.

Because it was Katara, smiling softly at the baby in her arms. She didn't seem to see him at all, her attention on the woman (her brother's wife?) talking to her, and the child she was holding.

Her hair was down, something Zuko found vaguely _foreign_, and she was dressed in the colors and style of a culture not his own. The dirt had been washed from her skin, her cuts cleaned, her arm bandaged professionally and she seemed a stranger to him.

The woman next to her, her sister-in-law, noticed the group of warriors guarding a certain prisoner, and began to hurry along, taking Katara's arm and pulling her rapidly across the village central. Katara looked confused, asking silently (he couldn't hear her, damn it) why they were rushing—what was it that she couldn't see, that she couldn't remember—

She looked up, across the distance, and met his eyes.

He wondered what she saw in his face.

Then she broke the contact, clutched the baby girl in her arms tightly to her chest, and turned away. Her companion followed without comment.

Zuko's eyes trailed her all the way across the village square, until she disappeared into a wooden building.

"What are _you_ staring at?" the young warrior from before said, bringing Zuko's attention back.

"Nothing," Zuko snapped.

"You were staring at Katara, weren't you?" asked his guard, a suspicious look on his unlined face.

"I don't have to tell you anything," said Zuko stonily, eyes staring straight ahead.

"Well," the guard said, "If you try to kill her, this entire island will have your head on a pike, Emperor or no."

"What happens if I try to kill _you_?" Zuko turned his direct gaze on the younger man, who looked away quickly. Zuko was not sure what he was trying to accomplish by intimidating this warrior, but it felt good that he still had _some_ sort of power and influence, however petty and insignificant it all was.

He hoped he wasn't developing an inferiority complex.

"Alright," an older warrior said gruffly, yanking on Zuko's arm. "Time to go back inside."

Zuko didn't protest as he was lead back into his room. It was warmer inside—but he missed the crisp air on his face, and the feel of golden sunlight, however weak it was now they were heading into winter. He almost asked for a little more time outdoors, but that would have been too similar to begging, and the Emperor Zuko, worthy royal descendent of a long line of prestigious rulers and mighty warriors, never begged for _anything_.

Not even for freedom.

* * *

Katara had gone the entire day in a haze of happiness and release. It seeped into her very bones, this satisfaction of simply being home. 

Night descended upon the island as she sat alone in her room, looking out the window at the thin sliver that was the moon tonight. Sokka and Suki had fallen into bed as soon as they'd fed Suyan and gotten her to quiet down and sleep. The entire house was silent.

Now she allowed herself to remember her punishment and her duty. The dread and reluctance (and fear?) crept back into her mind, pushing away the warm feelings of the day and replacing it with trembling weakness.

She would be the captive Emperor Zuko's caretaker. She would feed him, and bring him anything he needed within reason. She would drug all his food and water with the Guozhe plant, so his Firebending would be caged and stilled.

This was her punishment, to stare her mistake in the face, and be reminded constantly of all the things she had done wrong.

It was, possibly, the worst chastisement the Mistress could have thought up for Katara.

Katara wondered what Zuko would do as soon as she stepped into his cell. Scream at her? Beat her? Attempt to kill her?

She wondered if she was allowed to fight back and defend herself.

She wondered if she would try to.

She wasn't going to find out by sitting here in the dark, alone. Better to attempt the first meeting at night, when there would be no one else around to witness her humiliation. Sokka would be worried for her; he might try to stop her from going in order to protect her. Suki would want her to go armed to the teeth with weapons with which to defend herself.

Sliding open the screen door with as little noise as possible, Katara walked out under the moonlight, down the path towards the prisoners' hut.

In the main entranceway before the individual holding rooms, Katara found the supplies and food set out already. She crushed the Guozhe leaves with the pestle before dribbling the juice into the water pitcher for the Emperor. It was hard work, preparing the mixture with only one hand; her broken arm lay useless in its sling.

The smell of the Guozhe juice made her light-headed; she couldn't imagine drinking it, day after day, and having your bending, the most natural, spiritual part of you, cut off and removed. It would be like losing a body part.

It was dark in the small corridor leading to the cell at the end of the hallway. She lit a small lamp with a match, and set it precariously on the tray of food and drugged water.

As she reached the barred door, she set the tray down on the floor. The light flickered, and she caught a glimmer of movement inside the cell. Then his eyes opened and stared straight at her.

Katara looked away; it reminded her of an animal—the calm, calculating look of golden intensity he directed upon her. It was decidedly unnerving. He wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be angry—he was supposed to throw himself at her, railing and cursing and screaming his wrath.

But he sat inside his cell, on his low cot, and stared.

She hated it. And she knew this _was _punishment, of the most torturous kind.

Her hand trembled as she picked up the flickering lamp and set it beside her on the floor. Zuko's eyes moved—and she realized he wasn't staring at _her_ anymore. He was staring at the tiny flame inside the glass cage. Finally freed from his intense glare, she could read in his eyes the obsession, the utter _hunger_ he had for the fire.

He must be cold, Katara realized. He's without his Fire bending for the first time in his life—he must be cold.

Reaching into her belt to pull out the key, she unlocked his door. It swung open silently, and she bent down to pick up his food.

There was a moment here, a small window of opportunity comprised of mere seconds, when he could have moved faster than her eye could follow. He could have delivered a crushing blow to her head, grasped up the lamp, and set the entire building, and the rest of the island, on fire. He could have regained his freedom.

But he sat there and she knelt down, sliding his tray over the ground towards him. Zuko didn't move to touch it, and after a few heartbeats, she stood to leave. So this was the extent of their interaction.

It didn't hurt as bad as she'd thought it would (as long as she kept her emotions blinded and her heart numb), not bad at all.

Just as she was about to close the door and relock it, he spoke.

"Leave the lamp in here, will you?" he asked. Katara couldn't detect a single trace of emotion in his voice. It wasn't even a question—he stated it, demanded it.

"Why?" So you can burn the house down and escape?

"Because I don't like the dark."

"There's the moon," she replied, angling her head towards the slight window. Milky-white light drifted in.

"Leave the lamp in here, will you?" he repeated, exactly the same as before.

"There's _moonlight_," and for some reason, she was offended, even _angry_ at him.

A pause. Was he going to attack her for the blasted lamp?

"The moon isn't mine," he said slowly. "The fire is."

It was oblique, and subtle, and _confusing_—so it made perfect sense when she picked up the lamp and slid it inside to him, within arm's reach.

He didn't say thank you, and she didn't reprimand him for not doing so.

Katara left him and the light, traveling back down the hallway in perfect darkness.

* * *

Zuko wasn't sure about anything except the fact that he didn't know this woman. 

Her name was Katara and she was a soldier in his army, a loyal, trusted friend, and she kept her hair tied back.

Her name was Katara and she was a Kyoshi Warrior, a Waterbender, and she kept her hair loose and free.

Again, he wasn't sure why he'd insisted on keeping the lamp with him. Except that he was cold, and the warmth left his body whenever he drank that cursed water. He supposed he could just stop drinking it—but then he'd be dead in less than a week, and then how could free himself and his soldiers? Alive, he still had his physical fighting skills, and a working, thinking mind.

He was more unsure of why she'd actually agreed to leave the lamp here with him. Except that something he'd said must have rang true to her—the moonlight was cold, and he needed the fire like normal humans needed to breathe air.

He leaned forward and pulled that tiny, flickering flame towards him, picking it up and setting it on the bed next to him. It was so very, very small, but as he put his hands against the glass, he thought he could feel just the slightest tickling of warmth.

Or maybe he was just imagining it.

_I'm never going to forgive you_, he thought to her in the darkness. _And before I leave, you're going to find out how long never is_.

* * *

"It's so good to have you back," said Suki, painting her face carefully in the mirror. She was getting ready to teach her first class of the morning, to a small group of newly-initiated Warriors who wanted more sword training. "Usually I have to scramble everywhere to find somebody to watch Suyan." 

"That's all I'm good for?" Katara teased, bouncing her niece on one hip. Suyan happily sucked on a lock of Katara's hair. "Babysitting?"

Suki, her eyes leaving the mirror for a second, smiled at Katara. "Of course not."

Katara smiled back, and Suyan gurgled, reaching for her baby-sized cup of water. Her small, chubby hand _grasped_, and the liquid inside spilled over the wall of the small cup—at the last minute, Katara threw out a free hand and pushed it back in. This was the third time this morning.

Suki's eyes widened at the sight of this as Katara softly sighed and picked up the cup like a normal person for Suyan to sip.

"Fascinating," Suki muttered, before turning back to the mirror. "Sokka won't believe me."

"He doesn't believe in this hokey-pokey magic stuff," Katara said over her shoulder, holding onto the cup so Suyan wouldn't accidentally drown herself in her eagerness to drink.

"He believes it _now_, seeing as his own daughter is the Avatar," Suki murmured absent-mindedly.

"And he was so reluctant to back when _I_ first found out I was a Waterbender," Katara said, a bit petulantly.

Suki shrugged, buckling her sword to her hip. "Maybe he was jealous that you had special powers and he didn't."

Katara was silent. She'd never thought of that.

"Curious," Suki said, fixing her headdress. "How strange is it that _you_ can Waterbend while your brother can't? Doesn't it usually run in families? Genetics, or something of the sort?"

Katara focused on the water in the cup hand and dribbling into Suyan's mouth.

"You were found on the beach together, seventeen years ago," Suki mused. "Together, but without any sort of identification. You had the same hair color, the same eye color, so we all naturally assumed you were related."

Katara didn't like where this was going.

"But what if," Suki continued, "you weren't actually brother and sister, but—"

"Stop," Katara whispered.

Suki fell silent.

"We are," said Katara. "We are."

There was no way to explain how she knew it except the simple fact that she did.

"I'm sorry," Suki said after a pause. "I never doubted it, you know. Sometimes—sometimes my thoughts run away from me."

"I know," said Katara, and she forgave Suki.

Soon afterwards, her brother's wife left to teach lessons, and Katara stayed in the house with the baby. They played for a bit—Katara held Suyan by the hands and bade her walk around the house, tottering through rooms and making a few narrow misses whenever she lost her balance.

Then they went down to the beach. Several villagers smiled at them on the way there, and they stopped a few times when others wanted to carry Suyan for awhile, and make conversation.

Whatever they did, Katara kept her eyes averted from the prison house. They took the long way around, skirting the small building and crossing to the other side of the square in order to reach the beach. Suyan took no notice—it just meant more people to meet, more interesting things to see.

Katara wondered if Zuko could see her from his room.

They spent the morning at the beach, scrabbling over sand dunes and shrieking when the waves touched their feet. Heading back up to the house for lunch, Katara met Sokka coming from one of the meeting houses.

"Hey!" he called, jogging over and waving a quick farewell to the group of warriors he'd been talking with. Sokka scooped Suyan from Katara's arms and onto his shoulders.

Katara, feeling curiously light and empty without Suyan's weight in her arms, stepped forward quickly and engulfed Sokka in a hug.

Sokka, surprised, swung Suyan down from her perch on his shoulders, and hugged Katara back with one arm.

"I missed you," Katara murmured into her brother's shoulder. Suyan, clutched between them, giggled.

"Making up for lost time?" Sokka grinned, and ruffled his sister's hair.

"Yes," she breathed.

And suddenly, Sokka realized that this was more than an _I'm happy to see you _hug. It was, he could tell now, a _Tell me you love me too _hug.

So he did.

"I love you."

Katara sighed and said, "The feeling's mutual."

They separated slowly, and walked back up to the house. Sokka carried Suyan against his chest.

"Did you have a fun morning with Auntie Kat?" Sokka crooned to his daughter.

Katara made a face. "Ugh, don't call me Auntie Kat," she said, waving her unbroken arm at her brother. "It makes me sound so… old."

"If you're old, I'm old," said Sokka, grinning. "And I'm only nineteen, you know."

"Are you and Suki going to have any more kids?" Katara asked.

Sokka seemed to contemplate this for a moment, then he shrugged. "Depends on how this one works out," he said lightly, kissing the top of Suyan's head. But there was an unnamed tenseness in her brother's shoulders.

_How this one works out_.

Suyan was the Avatar. She was hunted by the Fire Empire. Maybe she'd live to see her second birthday. Maybe not.

A sudden image of two burning yellow eyes appeared in Katara's mind.

She shook it off. What Sokka had said could mean anything. If Suyan… didn't survive, then would he and Suki have more children, to try to replace the one they'd lost? Or would they give it up, and refuse to let go of their grief? If Suyan _did_ survive, would they have more children? But Suyan was the Avatar; any child born of the same parents would be overshadowed by the first sibling's fame, glory, and power. It might be kinder to the unborn siblings just to keep Suyan as an only child.

They reached the house at the same time Suki did, sweating and hungry from her morning practice.

They prepared a light lunch together, the four of them by themselves in their cozy, quiet house.

Katara watched her small family, and wished they could stay this way forever.

* * *

"How did your day go?" he asked her in the silence of the darkness. 

Katara was so surprised she dropped the tray; the water pitcher shattered on the floor and the drugged liquid seeped out, staining the mat.

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"I said, how did your day go?" There was no expression on his face.

Shocked, she stammered, "Fine."

"Same here," he said.

Katara looked closely at his features for some trace of mockery or sarcasm. She found none.

"Why are you talking to me?"

"Simple," he said, moving forward to pick up the unharmed plate of chopped vegetables and bread from the ground. "There's no one else to talk to."

"You should hate me."

"Who says I don't?"

Katara told herself she had been expecting this, but couldn't help flinching.

He saw this, and snapped off a piece of carrot in his mouth, chewing slowly. After he swallowed, he continued, "You tricked me, lied to me, and betrayed me. The only thing you haven't done yet is kill me."

"Who says I won't?" she shot back.

"I do," he said. His eyes were cold, calculating. "You're too weak. It's not that you _won't _kill—you just can't."

The conversation was hard, halting. It was like they were complete strangers again. It was like they were starting all over, from the very beginning, in their new roles and new places on this foreign new stage. Her as the captor, he as the prisoner. But the things they talk about—these things are personal and relevant only to them.

"And wasn't it," he continued, "your original mission to kill me, if I remember correctly?"

"You remember correctly," Katara gritted through her teeth.

"So why haven't you done it yet?" he asked, more to himself than to her. "Unless, of course, you and your little rebel friends will be needing me for something."

Now his voice had begun to mock and taunt her.

She hated it, but this nasty banter they were exchanging was far better than the ugly silence of before.

"Let me guess," Zuko plucked up another carrot from the plate, "You plan to ransom me back to my own people, yes? You'll cut a deal with my uncle—my freedom for peace between your island and the Empire."

She clenched her jaw hard. "We're not that stupid," she snapped. "Like we'd ever trust your word on anything. The minute we hand you back over to your uncle, an armada of Fire Navy ships will appear on our shores."

"True," he allowed. "So what are you going to do then? Just kill me, and hope that in the ensuing confusion in the Empire to find a suitable heir, you will be able to launch your attack on us, free those poor little Earth Kingdom refugees, and repopulate the world with your Waterbender progeny?"

Katara narrowed her eyes at him. "You forgot bringing the Air Nomads back to life."

"Oh yes," said Zuko, smirking. "Can't have your perfect _world peace_ without those tricky little Airbenders, can you? Four elements to create a _holy balance _and all."

"You've figured me out," Katara snapped. "Yes, I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to defeat your almighty Empire and create world peace for everybody! Is that so unworthy a goal?"

"No," he said, flicking a piece of imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Just unattainable."

"How so?"

"You remember," Zuko said, meeting her eyes again. She held onto his gaze determinedly. "that you can't kill me."

Back to the beginning again.

Katara shook her head and growled audibly. This argument would go nowhere. Swiping up the lamp with one hand, she stomped from the cell, slamming the metal-barred door closed behind her.

"Leave the lamp here, will you?" he called after her. She didn't need to turn around to know he was smirking.

"No!" she yelled back, and it was the answer he'd been expecting.

Still, after she left, he couldn't help but wish that she might have let him keep the fire tonight.

No matter. His anxiety in the dark wasn't the issue here. He reveled in the fact that he had achieved what he had set out to achieve. He'd gotten under her skin. Katara would be thinking about him all night, and the next day, if his intuition was right. She'd be eager to finish this argument and to defeat him.

His words would stick in her mind. She would keep coming back for more and more and more—until he pushed her over the edge.

He would make sure there'd be nobody there to catch her when she fell.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was a bitch to write. I had a few people edit it for me on livejournal, and they caught quite a few embarrassing mistakes for me—thanks to those of you who did, you know who you are. Most of what I was doing in my spare time was reading other people's stories... and so here be a list of the ones I really ejoyed: 

**Emperors & Queens** by Mystikat ( 50 ways in 50 sentences to bring a Fire Nation Prince and a Water Tribe Peasant together. A series of One-Liners focused on the Zutara relatioship. I _highly_ recommend this. So much meaning in so few words, it hurts. )

**Moments In Passing **by PallaPlease ( Again, 50 One-Liners, like above, but describing the relationship between Katara and Aang. I'm a Kataang shipper on the side—and this made me go _OH_. Even if you don't ship Kataang, I still suggest checking it out; it's _that_ good. And read her other stories. Yesh. )

**The Infinity Legend: Limitations** by Lady Windsong (A fairly popular Zutara story—all I can say is, why doesn't it have more reviews?)

I recc'd a few more stories when I updated the latest chapter of _These Circumstances_; go there for more.

One last thing: Who saw the season finale? And if you did, what did you think of the Zuko/Katara fight?

It just about screamed ELEMENTAL SEX to me.


	19. Bridging the Distance

**Chapter 19: Bridging the Distance**

Zhao gazed into the cup of ginseng tea in front of him that General Iroh had offered to everybody at the beginning of the meeting. It was a pretty little trifle—glazed blue and with some kind of delicate bamboo painting and an old proverb written on the side. Zhao hadn't bothered to read it. It was probably supposed to be deeply inspirational and significant, and he couldn't stand useless things like that.

The droning voice of General Li at the opposite end of the table buzzed in Admiral Zhao's ears like some kind of obnoxious insect.

"—therefore, we should exercise the utmost caution when considering a rescue mission. We could lose much more than the Emperor's life. Our reputation as a strong, honorable country is at stake."

General Iroh, uncle of the said Emperor, nodded his head gravely at Li's finished speech. "We will take your opinions into account, General Li."

Li, the idiot, accepted this graciously and sat down, a superior smirk on his face.

It was all Zhao could do to keep from rolling his eyes. A "strong, honorable country"? Ha! Honor had died the day the first Zuko, the _deranged_ one, had launched his massacre on the Water Tribes and desecrated anybody who stood in his path of world domination. There was no _honor_ left in the Fire Empire. Not in the royal family, not in the army, and certainly not in the common people. What was left consisted of greed, lust, envy, and cruel ambition.

All of which Admiral Zhao had in abundance, he was proud to say.

He stood up, slapping the table in a show of confidence and arrogance. The teacup rattled dangerously, and Iroh's eyebrows raised. _You stupid old man, with your stupid blue teacups_.

"I say," he proclaimed, raising one arm, "that we've already delayed our rescue of the Emperor for far too long! He has been kidnapped by those bloodthirsty, barbaric rebels, and who knows what sorts of horrors they are committing on him right this minute. It is _our_ responsibility, as honorable and loyal officers of the Empire, to bring our leader home safely. We should leave now, with the biggest fleet of ships the world has ever seen, and those Kyoshi rebels will know what kind of empire they're truly dealing with." It was a passionate and rousing speech; he could see it in the eyes of several other commanders and captains situated around the table. They were caught up in the glory and the picture of victory he'd painted for them.

"But," interjected General Li, "there are large risks, and committing an unnecessary amount of firepower on a mere rescue mission—"

Zhao rounded on him, "Are you saying that the life of our Emperor is _not_ worth a few paltry ships? Are you implying that our loyalties aren't strong enough to necessitate the immediate return of our great monarch?

"No! I'm saying that we have to be logical—"

"You," Zhao pointed at Li, "might not put much worth in the life of the Emperor, but I, and several others here, I'm sure, are eager to free our great leader from the traitorous hands of the rebels. We are _honorable_ men with integrity, Li. What are _you_?"

Li mumbled something about support and getting right to it.

Zhao smiled, a gracious and kindly smile directed at General Iroh, who had been watching this entire exchange in silence. "My Lord?" It was like a dagger in his pride, every time Zhao had to call Iroh by this honorific. General Iroh was part of the royal family—while he was not the current ruler, respect was still accorded to him.

One day, thought Zhao, we'll see who deserves to be My Lord. Or, more accurately, _Your_ Lord.

"Admiral Zhao has brought up several good points," said Iroh, "not the least of which is that my nephew has already spent far too long a time in the grasp of the rebels. He needs to come home, and soon."

Zhao nodded agreeably and thought: You weakling. That speech of mine wasn't spouted off just for Li's foolishness. It was also catered toward _your _weaknesses—your love and devotion for your nephew Zuko. I'm playing with your sympathies, I'm _in charge_ of your emotions, and you don't even know it.

"Zhao," said Iroh, "Prepare your fleet and your men. You have my permission to mount a rescue operation for the Emperor. I put you in command of the entire mission."

Zhao bowed in gratitude, and laughed inside.

"However, I'll be sending General Li here along with you. Perhaps his cooler head will provide a good balance for your ambitious energy and rush, however good your intent is."

A short laugh from the men around the table; Zhao was too blinded by anger inside to see who it was specifically.

General Iroh was intelligent, Zhao'd give him that. Sending along a spy, a little minion to follow Zhao's every move and report back to Iroh about it—that was a good idea on Iroh's part. And Zhao wouldn't be able to publicly refuse General Li's accompaniment. To do so would be outright disrespectful, and taken as a move of insubordination.

So Zhao bowed again, significantly shallower this time around. He didn't care if anybody noticed. "As you command, my Lord."

As Zhao straightened up, his right elbow "accidentally" shoved the blue bamboo teacup over the edge, spilling ginseng tea everywhere. The small piece of intricate pottery shattered on the floor.

"Sorry," he made a regretful face at Iroh and the others. "My apologies." Sketching off another bow (he barely dipped his head,) he left, swinging the doors shut behind him.

Zhao was feeling strong. Things were finally beginning to move and _happen_.

Pity that General Li wouldn't survive to see it once they left the harbor.

* * *

Katara woke up, and for the first time in a long, long while, stayed in bed. This time, there was no hurried Lt. Ensei yelling in her ear that they had business to finish, rebel ass to kick, missions to accomplish—the usual. 

Instead, there was faint sunlight on her cheek, the muffled morning cries of Suyan in the next room, and a peace that only came with being home.

She wondered how Zuko was dealing with his morning in his prison cell.

And immediately her good mood was ruined.

She remembered that she had to continue with her punishment today, which involved seeing Zuko face-to-face in about a half hour to feed him his breakfast. This would most likely result in a heated battle of words as soon as he noticed her arrival. She didn't understand why he'd been so hostile to her last night.

Actually, now that she thought about it, a few choice reasons came to mind (betrayal of trust, Hiro's death, hidden identity—to name all but a few).

But if he wanted to escape, wouldn't he try to go about it in a more sensible way? Instead of harrying her and insulting her and calling her a weak, soft coward—it was confusing and a waste of time. There was no point.

. . . but to say she was not looking forward to this verbal duel would be to lie.

Katara had lain awake last night after coming back from the prison house, thinking about their conversation. She went over every detail—what he'd said, then her own response, then _his_ response, and so on and so forth.

Then she made up a whole _new_ version of this conversation, the version where she was actually able to say the clever, ingeniously witty comebacks that she only thought of now.

It was pathetic, her having devoted so much brain time to the ten minutes of bitter conversation with _that man_.

Suyan let out a particularly ear-splitting shriek from the next room, and the scent of burning cloth wafted through the house.

"Katara!" Suki called out, slightly nervously, "Could you come over here? And bring the water pitcher from the kitchen with you."

The joys of family.

* * *

"Did you miss me?" he asked as she approached him in the dim light of the hallway outside his cell. 

"Oh, what's not to miss?" she snapped back, setting down her tray to open up the door. He noticed her left arm was still bound in a sling. And she noticed him noticing.

"Taking advantage of my temporary weakness to escape would be cowardice," she said, stepping inside.

"Good soldiers are taught to take advantage of opportunities."

"This island is crawling with rebel warriors, and surrounded by ocean water. You wouldn't make it very far," she pushed the tray over to his feet, where he was sitting upright on his rumpled cot.

Zuko could think of a couple of ways. These rebels weren't very smart after all, sending Katara here alone to deal with him, and her with a broken arm too. Didn't they realize how easy it would be for him to overpower the slighter, injured girl? He could take her hostage, threaten to kill her unless her brother, the Island leader, and his people agreed to do as Zuko said. It would be easy—well, easy if he had his Firebending.

This drug he was fed continuously, the drug he was drinking _now,_ it made him sluggish and he hated not having that innate heat inside him, ready to attack and defend on his command.

But he wouldn't do something so dishonorable as using blackmail and threats to get off the island. He _would_ accomplish escape, eventually, but he would do it in the most triumphant way.

Katara would let him escape, of her own free will.

He could feel her eyes on him, from her position next to the cell door, putting as much distance between them as she possibly could. Interesting. She made a point to avoid physical proximity; it probably made her uncomfortable or nervous. That was something to remember.

"Good food," he said, putting something in his mouth (he didn't know what) and chewing, "did you make it?"

"No," was her curt answer.

"So who did?"

"I don't know."

"Not in a conversational mood, I take it?"

"No."

A bit of silence.

"What are you thinking about?" Zuko asked, knowing it would annoy her.

"Trying to figure out the best way to kill you," she said spitefully.

He chewed, tilting his head upwards. "As in quickest? Easiest?" he gulped down the drugged water, "Or with the least mess? Blood stains, you know," he smiled.

Her hands, wrapped around her legs, clenched tighter.

"Or maybe," he said thoughtfully, setting the cup down next to him on the cot, "you're thinking of the most _painful_ way to kill me."

She averted her eyes, mouth thinning to a sharp blade of pink against her dark skin.

He continued to look her way, even though she was avoiding eye contact now. Coward. "Hanging's a popular one. I might not take break my neck completelyl, but I'll hang there for awhile, choking to death, face turning purple, eyes popping."

Her jaw moved—she was longing to say something. Did she want him to stop?

"Or perhaps a knife stroke through the stomach. It takes a long time to die from a stomach wound, a painfully long time. I'll have an open gash, my innards dripping out. Then the acid from my belly will eat through the rest of me until it reaches my heart, or whatever life-preserving organ comes first. My lungs. Then I'll drown in my own fluids."

Katara was blinking hard.

"A knife in the gut. Is that how you originally planned it, Katara? Maybe when we first fought in the arena, when you were trying to get into the Elites. When I found your little traitor-friend, Juiko. Remember him?"

"Stop—"

"Or perhaps when I was sleeping so close next to you in the tent, with only a thin layer of fabric to separate us. You could have rolled over, planted one in my heart, and left before the rest of the patrol woke up. You'd be long gone by the time they realized your betrayal. I wonder what stopped you?"

"You bastard—"

He slid off the cot, coming closer—like some kind of graceful, dangerous cat before the leap—saying, "I wonder if it was because you thought you _felt_ something."

She twisted away, but she'd been in a corner and the corner was the only place she could go.

"I wonder," Zuko continued, crouching lower until their faces were on the same level, until he was staring into those lying blue eyes, "I wonder if it was because you thought we were _friends_."

Those eyes are wide open now, scaring him with their defenselessness, but he presses on, because he needs to do this, he needs to get out, he needs to be warm again (he's so cold), "I wonder if you thought there was something _more_—"

The blue is utter despair for a moment, hopeless and all-consuming _despair_, before she snapped up, and Zuko knew she'd seen something in his face. Snarl consuming her previously terrified expression, she placed one hand on his chest, shoving him hard with an unexpected strength, all the way back until he lost his balance and fell against the cot, jarring his spine and neck.

Katara stood up straight, one arm in a sling and the other clenched into a fist at the end.

"You think too highly of yourself, your _majesty_," she bit out at him.

Zuko stared up at her from the ground.

"Finish your food," she said, nudging at the plate with one foot. A red apple rolled off the plate and came to rest next to his hand. "I'll be back later to pick it up."

Katara left, locking the door with a malicious screech of metal behind her.

Zuko, face in a grimace, picked himself up from the ground. He was going to have bruises by tomorrow, if not tonight. He stood up shakily, and went through what had just happened. He ran over everything he'd said, every movement he'd made and her every reaction. Where had he gone wrong?

He'd _meant_ to push her over the edge, cause a breakdown of some sort. She was a weakling with no strength, no resolve, no motive to fight and kill if needed. A complete coward; they'd already established that part. Of course he'd expected her to break in the face of his verbal attack.

So why hadn't she?

Had he gone overboard with the gruesome list of deaths? But she'd been bothered by those—she'd shown it with her tensing body and averted eyes. His accusations, his nearing physical proximity—those had terrified her as well. But as he closed in, she'd realized something and she'd fought back.

What _was _it?

Had she, at the last moment, seen through him as well? Seen how scared he truly was, seen how he was bullying her, threatening her, not only because he needed to escape, but because he didn't want to be known forevermore as a _failure_? Both of them had been lying—both of them pretending to be confident and sure and right. In the end, neither of them were any of those things.

She'd figured out that they were equals. That he did not have the upper hand because he was bigger, stronger, more powerful and an _Emperor_ to boot—he was, the whole time, shaking just as badly as her inside, just as afraid, and just as much of a liar.

Katara was not weak. She was not weak because she'd chosen not to kill him. She'd betrayed him, yes, but she'd betrayed him to save them all from harm and injury in the name of Admiral Zhao's hatred and ambition.

When a person makes a grave error, the first instinct is to hide it from others in order to avoid facing humiliation and embarrassment. If that is not possible, as was Katara's case, then the second instinct is to destroy it—to eradicate any evidence of all wrongdoings.

She had failed her mission, failed her people, and still she came back every day to face _him_, her greatest mistake—and the personification of every single thing she'd ever done wrong in her life.

Yet she kept him alive. She wasn't consumed by anger or malice, the feelings that so often accompanied the need to _destroy_ and _hide_. She was merely... apologetic. Sad. Regretful. He'd seen it all in her eyes.

She was no coward. She was no weakling.

I'm the failure, Zuko thought.

He picked up the empty water pitcher and flung it against the wall.

Outside, on her way towards the light, Katara heard the noise of shattering pottery and flinched.

* * *

They'd just finished lunch; Sokka was slightly worried because Suki hadn't shown up like she usually did to eat. Katara stood next to him on the porch, balancing Suyan on one hip. 

Finally, Suki appeared from behind the wall of trees. Sokka, smiling, stepped down to meet his wife in the middle of the path.

"Where were you?" he said.

"Liya was sick yesterday—she needed a make-up lesson," Suki said.

Sokka's eyes sharpened on the white bandage across her right shoulder. "What happened there?"

"An accident," Suki said, brushing it off. "Liya had her first training with a metal sword today—I guess she wasn't fully recovered from her sickness. She fainted while I was turned around, and she sort of just slid forward onto me," Suki laughed. "It was partly my fault. Since she was a beginner, I wasn't cautious and decided not to wear my armor. Kind of an embarrassing way to get a bad sword wound, hm?" She said, hitching her bag over her good shoulder as she neared Sokka.

"Bad wound, alright," he said, examining her bandage. "There's dried blood all over this, Suki."

"It's better now. I can hardly feel it."

He bent down to take the bag from her, but she said, "It's okay, Sokka, really."

He leaned in closer and whispered, "Let me."

She smiled, slid one hand behind his neck, and kissed him. It had been such a long time since they'd _touched_ like this, what with Suyan's newfound Avatar abilities, Katara's return, the Emperor's capture, and all the ensuing fuss, fuss, fuss. There had been worrying, crying, sometimes even shouting—and not enough of what had brought them together in the first place.

But it was common in war, to forget the things that you were fighting to protect: the freedom to live your life, the ability to love those you loved. These things were pushed aside, deemed to be not as important when there were plans to be made, warriors to train, enemies to kill. And at the end of it all—or when they did reach the end—they were too tired, too worried, or too _hurt_. They were constantly thinking about what the next day would bring, and had no time to think about Today, Here, Now.

There just wasn't enough _time_.

Suki sighed, shuddering, and Sokka slipped an arm around her waist, leaning his forehead against hers. _Too long_.

Katara looked away to give them some privacy. "Me and Suyan," she announced loudly, startling Sokka and Suki (they'd forgotten she was there; she smirked), "are going to be having a lot of fun by ourselves today. Aren't we?"

Suyan laughed and clapped her hands.

"We won't be needing anybody else. We'll play in the house, so the beaches, the forests, the rivers will probably be empty. We're going to have a great time, Suyan and I. All by ourselves."

Katara stepped inside the house, sliding the door shut behind her with a resounding _snap_.

When she looked out the window ten minutes later, her brother and Suki were gone.

She smiled, and looked down at Suyan before grumbling out loud, "Your mama and papa are out there getting it on. What are _we_ going to do for the rest of the day?"

Suyan gurgled and raised her hands to be picked up.

* * *

Sokka pulled her forward through the trees, and Suki followed along, breathless, joyous to be free, to be _alive_, finally— 

He turned and pressed her against a tree. Suki guessed they were far enough into the forest to be undetectable, and laughed, low in her throat, skimming her hands over his face, his head, his neck, under his shirt.

"Too long," he whispered into her ear.

"What?" she murmured, trying to catch his lips again.

He laughed. "I mean," he said, "too long since we've had time to ourselves—Suyan, then Katara, then that Fire bastard in the prison house—"

She smiled back, pressing her face against his neck so she could feel his voice rumble throughout her body. "Don't waste it by talking," she spoke, voice muffled.

Suki could _feel_ him smile, and he pressed himself against her—she arched (too long)—and he kissed her, softly.

The feel of his lips against hers—she was suddenly filled with a sense of urgency, of _hurry hurry_ and desperation not enough _time_; she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down harder, come _on_.

He reciprocated, understanding her needs, and his hands slid urgently down her face, her throat, gliding hard across her collarbones until he pressed against her shoulders—

She tore away, crying out at the sudden flare of pain.

Sokka's face was horrified. "Suki—Suki, are you okay?"

She slid down the trunk of the tree, breathing harshly, hand trembling as she held onto her right shoulder. He followed her, gathering her carefully in his arms, leaning her hand against his chest. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

Suki shook her head against him, smiling wanly. "Not your fault." She felt something wet against her shaking fingers—shit, the wound had opened again.

And then she felt something wet against her hair, her face.

"Sokka?" she reached up with one hand to feel his face. "Sokka, why are you crying?"

He was rocking back and forth now, mumbling something—she put her ear to his chest and heard, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over and over again.

"Sokka—don't, you didn't meant to—" but it was a disease, it was contagious, like laughter was contagious but _worse, _because now it was a disaster, the despair coming down her cheeks as well.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, and cradling his face in her hands, tried to kiss away the salty tears. It was hopeless, stupid, because there were too many, everywhere, flooding them and never giving them a single goddamn day of rest—I just want to _stop_, please—they'd been having such a good time before, a good life, a happy one with a darling baby girl.

But that was a lie, really, because the war had always been there, before either of them were born.

And here, in this secret place in the heart of the forest, it still managed to extend its dirty, ash-covered tendrils through the dying trees, the cold winter, and _touched_ her, ruining the day they should have had, ruining the people they should have been and they lives they should have lived.

They sat there, on the gray dirt covered with dead leaves, clinging to each other and wondering why they weren't happy instead of sad—but one was too hard to achieve, and the other too easy to slip into—

It. Just. Wasn't. Fair.

* * *

The sky slowly darkened outside as clouds overcame the sun; Katara frowned slightly as she kept a close eye on Suyan who was trying to stick an entire wooden spoon into her mouth. 

Katara pulled the utensil away from her niece: "I hope your parents know how much time is passing," she mumbled, rinsing the spoon in the water basin, "Looks like rain."

Suyan reached for the spoon. Katara gave up and handed it back to her, since it was already ruined with all the chew marks on it.

Katara kept hoping that Sokka and Suki would come back in the next hour or so—she still had to deliver Zuko his lunch, something she wasn't exactly looking forward to, what with this morning's events—and she didn't want to have to cart Suyan along. It would be a hassle, and, when she thought about it, very dangerous.

When Sokka and Suki didn't return after three hours, Katara began gnashing her teeth in frustration. Once her brother and sister-in-law came back, she'd give them a piece of her mind. Suyan didn't seem to notice anything was wrong, and continued to amuse herself in various ways.

Come_ on_, Katara thought to her brother, foot tapping on the wooden floor in annoyance. Where the hell were they?

* * *

General Li had suffered a strange malady of the lungs the first day they left the Fire Nation harbor. His body had been deposited of quietly, over the side into the deep blue ocean. Iroh would be missing his updates and messages from his little minion; oh well, delivery birds got lost, storms whipped up—anything could happen on a ship. 

Especially Admiral Zhao's ship.

He studied the map tacked to the table on the command deck. It was a fair distance from the harbor in the south of the Fire Nation to Kyoshi island. A week, at least.

Well, he'd waited this long—he could wait a few more days for victory.

Admiral Zhao's fleet of twenty ships was making good progress towards the rebel stronghold—twenty ships carrying upwards of two hundred men each. He probably had more soldiers under his command than the entire Kyoshi island population. It was a miracle, really, that those idiot villagers hadn't been wiped out and subdued some time ago. It had been a hundred years since Zuko the First began his domination of the world—why had he made the decision _not_ to attack this tiny lump of rock in the middle of the ocean?

There'd been some decree, Zhao could faintly remember reading about. None of the Fire Nation ships had ever moved against Kyoshi Island before; some stupid law the first Zuko had made about not attacking the islanders, how they weren't a "threat".

And the second Zuko—he wasn't much better. If it'd been up to Zhao, those rebels would have been dead or enslaved a long, long time ago.

But no use regretting the wasted time. His goal was in reach now, his mission clear. Rescue the Emperor, destroy the rebels, and return to the Fire Nation a victorious Admiral.

Two out of three wouldn't be bad.

There'd been an "accident" in the ensuing attack; the rebels panicked, fingers got arrow-happy and killed their hostage before Zhao's fleet had even set foot on the island. What a shame. Oh well, Zhao was still a good, loyal man to his Emperor and he was consumed with exacting revenge. He proceeded in meting out justice to those rebel bastards, no room for mercy, submit or die.

General Iroh would be devastated. In his sorrow and grief, he would retire to his suites, trying to find some meaning to continue living his life after the death of his nephew, the last of his family (after his wife and son's passing-away a few years back.)

Zhao would step in, a man with integrity and honor, to lead the Empire. He was even faintly related to the royal family on his father's side; a few of the earlier Fire Lords had been generous in their company and pleasure. Almost half the nobles in court could claim relation to the royal bloodline. But Zhao's case would be stronger, because he would have loyalty of the army, and several of the richer nobles (Huang came to mind) to back him up.

There was no way his plan could possibly backfire.

Zhao smiled. His plan would be executed perfectly—and if somebody somewhere screwed up, heads would roll.

* * *

As the sun began to set, Katara made her decision. She couldn't very well leave Suyan here by herself, and she didn't know anyone else who would take a six-month-old baby on such short notice; besides, Sokka had trusted _her_ with his daughter, not a neighbor or a stranger. 

And besides, she'd be in and out of the prison house really fast this time; no more stopping for conversation or arguments with Zuko. She would merely drop off the food, pick up the old tray, and leave. Then hopefully Suki or Sokka would be back home by then—after a little while, she could go back to Zuko's cell and clear out the dinner tray. Simple.

So cradling Suyan in her good arm, she set out for the prison house. Her niece was in a good mood, smiling and clapping her hands (her favorite new trick) and gurgling happily.

Katara carefully clasped Suyan against her body with her elbow, picking up the tray with her good hand and setting it on top of her broken arm in the sling. This could all very well be fixed if she just healed herself—but she didn't. She wasn't exactly sure why. Guilt was too simple a reason. Perhaps it was because the memories and nightmares from Zhao's interrogation would take forever to heal, if they ever did—and compared to that, a broken arm was nothing.

Suffice to say that she just didn't want to waste the energy on it when her arm could heal well enough on its own time.

So, balancing both food and child carefully, Katara moved down the darkening hallway, growing more and more apprehensive with every step. Then she reached the cell bars, and there he was, sitting on his cot, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. She saw him open his mouth as she came in his sight; but he closed it as soon as he saw whom she'd brought with her.

"Your brother's?" he asked.

Katara merely nodded, reminding herself about her No Conversation rule for tonight. Bending down slowly, she set the tray on the ground, wincing as the plates rattled dangerously. Suyan pushed at her impatiently, making a little whimpering noise. Katara let Suyan go as well, placing her gently on the wooden floor.

She turned to unlock the door, sliding the key in and out quickly before turning back around to pick up the food tray and cursing as her hand shook and one of the plates smashed to the ground. Forget it, Zuko would just have to go without his vegetables for tonight. Her hand was trembling—why the hell was it _trembling_?

Katara swiveled carefully to push the tray inside the cell—so intent was she on keeping the tray balanced that she hadn't noticed that Zuko had moved from his position on the cot. All of a sudden, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zuko reach down, grasp Suyan by the arm, and gently slide her into the cell.

There was a _click_ of a lock sliding into place.

Katara stared through the bars at Zuko and Suyan.

Zuko gazed back at her, calm and steady. Suyan made an incomprehensible noise in her mouth and continued to crawl to the opposite side of Zuko's cell, away from the door.

Her mouth was dry, so dry—this had been a mistake, she _knew_ it—and her hands fumbled at her belt for the keys, which key was it again, oh fuck, if only he would stop looking at her like that, like he had everything under his control, the bastard.

Her fingers found one key, she shoved it blindly into the keyhole without looking to see if it was the same make, the same color, the same type—it wasn't, it got caught, too big, and wouldn't go in or come out.

"Wrong choice," he said softly.

The keys dropped from her hands to the floor, a rattle of silver and metal. She grasped the bars, slamming herself forward.

"_Don't you dare touch her_."

Zuko didn't break eye contact with Katara. "She's the one, isn't she?"

The One had now pulled herself up against Zuko's cot, giggling and yanking at the sheets.

"I'll _kill_ you." Her hands were white-knuckled.

Zuko's eyes moved, sweeping over the toddler rummaging through his blankets. "You wouldn't kill me to save your mission and your secrets and your people's last chance for freedom—but you would kill me if I touched this one child?"

_She _is_ our last chance for freedom. Our only chance_.

Suyan was trapped in there, with Zuko, but Katara felt like the one who was encaged, the one imprisoned and denied.

"That leads me to believe that this girl must be somebody very, very special."

He moved away from her—Katara's hand reached through the bars, trying to grasp his shirt, trying to pull him back—"_No!_"

Zuko bent down over Suyan, and lifting her up into the air, settled her against his shoulder. She fumbled, laughing, with one of the laces at the neck of his shirt. She was so innocent, so _unknowing_.

Katara stared through the bars. Zuko had just taken the drugged water this morning—he couldn't Firebend. But there were so many other simpler ways to kill a baby. Brutal ways. Choking, crushing, twisting.

"You wouldn't," she said, mouth dry.

"I wouldn't what?" he said, voice steady. Suyan's mop of dark brown hair rested against his neck. He was cradling her almost tenderly. Katara refused to believe it.

"You wouldn't harm a child, Avatar or no," she said.

"Who said anything about an Avatar?" Zuko said, playing stupid. Katara didn't buy it—she knew he'd suspected it the moment he'd seen her with Suyan. He'd seen her on the beach when they arrived, and he'd seen her walking through the village square.

"I know you," Katara continued, buying time. "I've heard you say before—that time you told us Zhao wanted to kill all the Earth children in order to force the Avatar to be reborn into the Fire Nation—you were against that, you didn't want to do it."

"That was massacring tens of thousands of children, Katara," Zuko said, and began to pace back and forth inside his cell, with Suyan in his arms. "But this time, I've got no need to waste lives unnecessarily. I have the only one I possibly need."

She was speechless with terror. These iron bars were keeping her from the one who would save the world, and the one who would destroy it.

"Zuko—I _know_ you—"

"You're my enemy!" he hissed, and Suyan let out a faint whimper, "What the hell could you possibly know about me?"

Katara worked, mouth dry.

_Know your enemy. _One of the first pieces of advice ever told to a warrior in training. Strategies and tactics and plans were built around a person's knowledge of the enemy they fought. Strengths, weaknesses, routines, when they went to the bathroom at night, and if it would be the best time to strike when their guard was down. She liked to eat chocolate-covered mangoes at dinner—there was a deadly poison from the Earth Kingdom that had the same consistency and flavor as chocolate. He had a secret lover, a woman in the village whom he visited every fourth night. Expose him to destroy his reputation—or catch and knife him as he was leaving his lover's bed. These things, the tiny, inconsequential details, were the ones that could kill a person.

Whom did she list first as an enemy?

Zuko, whom she'd betrayed and lied to. He'd been her friend—and then she'd _made_ him her enemy that day in the dungeons at Fort Luxing.

But he was my enemy in the first place, before he was ever my friend. Her head and logic knew this—her heart and emotions didn't.

_Know your enemy_.

What kind of impossible demand was that? The more you knew about a person, the more you realized that there was so much more you _didn't_ know about them. And to truly know someone was to get inside their head—and then you ran the risk of learning how much you were alike.

But if you were truly determined, you would continue to wrap yourself in that person, to completely immerse yourself in their world for the purpose of finding out their strengths and weaknesses: this was where the deadly danger of _falling_ existed. Falling into obsession, into revelation, into—if desperation called for it—love.

The saying shouldn't have been, "Know your enemy."

It should have been, "Know your enemy enough so that you can kill him when you see him, but not enough that you start wondering why he's your enemy in the first place."

"I know," she began, eyes never leaving his face, "that you're a man of honor and you would never, _never_ stoop so low as to kill a child in cold blood, even if she is your greatest enemy."

Zuko's face was a mask of anger and underneath, admittance.

She'd been right.

"Pick up your keys," he snarled.

She did, bending down slowly, keeping eye contact. She felt the cold metal beneath her fingertips, and feeling around, found the correct key. She slid it smoothly into the hole, never shaking once, and unlocked the door, opening it.

Zuko held Suyan out towards her. Her niece kicked her feet in midair, uncomfortable in the situation.

Katara slowly walked forward before taking hold of Suyan, then bringing her down close and cradling the baby against her chest. Zuko said nothing, merely looked at the two of them.

"It is my weakness," he said slowly, eyes on Suyan, "that I can't do what needs to be done, because my emotions and morals get in the way."

"It's not a weakness."

"It makes me a failure."

"Am I a failure then," Katara said, "for keeping you alive? For not killing you? For saving your life, or however the hell you want to say it?"

That was unfair, Zuko thought. He couldn't possibly insult her for not having killed him. A few days ago, a few _hours_ ago, he might have answered yes, just to spite her and get her angry. But if he said that now, then he'd be lying.

He just looked at her, holding that child as if it were her own, and shook his head.

"It's different," he said. "I'm the ruler of my empire—there are things I have to do in order to protect my people."

"And killing a defenseless baby is one of them?"

"She's not always going to be a defenseless baby! She's the Avatar! If I let her, then she'll be the one to overthrow me and destroy everything I've ever worked for."

"And you believe in what you've worked for? The enslavement of the Earth people, the deaths of so many who wish to be free, all to feed the greed that is the Fire Nation?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe!" he exploded, "All that matters is my _duty_ and what is required of me!"

"Alright," she said. And then Katara, holding Suyan beneath her chubby arms, shoved the infant Avatar towards Zuko. "Kill her."

Zuko's face was surprised, shocked.

"Come on," Katara said, pushing Suyan at Zuko. "Do it. Fulfill your duty. Your requirements. What are you waiting for? My arm's getting tired."

Zuko's jaw worked, and his eyes narrowed. "If I called you on your bluff right now, you would end up being responsible for your brother's child's death, and the death of the hope of every person on this island."

"But you're not going to," Katara answered, eyes clear. "You're not going to kill her—I already know it."

Suyan began to cry and squirm.

Zuko took hold of Katara's hands around the baby and pushed them back towards her own body, until she was cradling Suyan against her chest again. "I get your point," he said sarcastically, "I'm a good, honorable man with integrity."

"Considering."

"Considering _what_?"

"Considering the fact that you're the leader of the Empire, my people's worst enemy, and the fact that you're _Fire_, a destructive element, and the fact that you can be a horrible bully—"

"Alright, Alright—"

"—then you're good and honorable, but only _considering_."

"Thank you for your generous praise," he snapped, "What's next, a marriage proposal?"

"My brother would kill you."

"I was joking."

"This conversation's getting too civilized. I have to go."

She picked up the old tray and turned to leave.

"Katara."

"Yes?"

"You—you didn't kill Hiro, did you?"

She froze in the doorway. Her voice was bitter: "I might as well have."

Did you run him through with your knife? Did you shoot him with your bow? Did you get one of your rebel friends to do it for you?

Do you regret it? He wanted to ask.

But the answer was already there, on her face, in her movements, and in the fact that Suyan, a perceptive child easily influenced by her aunt's emotions, began to cry.

* * *

Katara reached the house, beginning to pant slightly with the exertion she'd taken to walk back quickly while carrying Suyan. Sokka and Suki were probably home already, and worried that they couldn't find her. 

She climbed the steps to the porch, and noticed her brother's and Suki's shoes left carelessly by the front door. Sliding it open, Katara stepped in, surprised to see that the main room was deserted, and the house silent.

Slightly worried, Katara walked along the short hallway, stopping before their door. She pressed her ear gently against the wood, and couldn't hear a single noise from inside. Taking a deep breath, Katara slid it open, preparing herself for anything—maybe nakedness or some other equally embarrassing thing.

But the only thing she was Suki and her brother sleeping calmly in their bed, Sokka's arm thrown over his wife.

Katara grinned, creeping closer with a strangely silent Suyan in her arms. She wanted to scare them awake; it'd be something to laugh about later, and they all needed something to laugh about right now—

She stopped when she saw Suki's face. It was streaked with dusty tears, and there were bits of leaf here and there in her hair. Her shoulder bandage was a rusty brown. Somber, Katara looked over at her brother's face—it was dirty as well, and his cheeks were still wet.

Something had happened, something that had broken the happy couple she'd seen earlier before they left. Whatever it was, they were obviously dead tired, and needed a few hours to just _forget_.

Katara began to back out of the room, slowly, holding Suyan's head against her chest. She reached her own room, and began to lay out extra blankets and a pillow.

"We're going to give your mom and dad a break tonight, okay?" she whispered to Suyan. Katara set her down on the bed, and her niece slipped her thumb into her mouth, looking up at her with clear, understanding brown eyes.

* * *

Zuko fell asleep that night and dreamt of a white memorial in a garden, an ocean by his side, and deep, dark regret. 

I wish I could change it.

I wish I could have saved her.

I wish—

Zuko woke up in the morning to bright, wintry sunshine, and his face was damp.

* * *

**A/N: **I want to extend a gigantic thank-you to Mystikat, witheringheights, chickygurl, AkaVertigo, oookelcitaooo, Spleefmistress, Whomever, and Melodiee for their help in betaing this chapter. They save me from a lot of embarrassment concerning grammar and spelling and all sorts of nasty, ugly things. 

This chapter was four days shy of being a month between updates--winter break and vacation was what got to me, mostly. Oh, and I watched the Chronicles of Narnia! I had a short little obsession with that as well, and wrote a few ficlets for the fandom, because I absolutely adored the books when I read them as a kid. Don't think I'll ever post them here though.

I haven't had a Q&A/reply thing in awhile:

**It seems to me that you like this story better than THATP too. It just comes out in your writing, how much you love what you're writing. The best things I have ever read were written by people who love what they're writing. You can always tell, you know? --Farren**  
You are indeed correct, Farren, but I personally wasn't aware that it came out in my writing. That's a nice surprise. :) I do enjoy writing this a lot more than THATP.

**Reina D.--**  
Thank you so much for your calculations. Their ages and the succession of time was not something I paid very much attention to; I see now I could have worked harder at that. Thank you for being so understanding. :D You deserve a cookie for all that math you did.

**my only suggestion is to speed up the romance between Katara and Zuko --witheringheights**  
Many people have been calling for fluff and romance. I think a lot of people will agree with me that even though I started writing this story with Zutara in mind, it's become less "Zutara" and more "Zuko and Katara", which is a disappointment. Do I make sense?  
Everytime I try to attempt the romance--I get scared and cop out. I always get the feeling that I'll blow them both out of character, and that it won't be believable. So I take the easy, lazy path and just try not to do it, which is stupid, because this _is_ supposed to be kinda romantic. I'm not a very good realistic!romance writer, but I'll try harder in the future.

(But I do want to defend myself slightly and say that even though this is classified as part Romance, it's also action, adventure, drama, angst, (occasional) humor, and political/war intrigue. This is not going to be one of those stories where it turns into a complete soap opera centered on romance and I'm sorry if that disappoints you, but you'll have to go somewhere else for mega-fluff (try the latest chapter of _These Circumstances_ for that?) Not that I have anything specifically against romance, mind you, it's just that this fic won't be totally centered on it. When it works, I'll slip it in.)

Thanks for all the amazing reviews. I read EVERY SINGLE one of them, even if they're short or if they're super-long.


	20. Heaven Coming Down

**A/N:** This chapter's about 15,000+ words long, kiddies (one reason why the update took forever). I suggest you make an hour or two in your schedule before embarking upon it. It's very long because I meant it to be read in one piece. But if you can't manage it, then it's okay if you read it apart in sections.

Please, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Heaven Coming Down**

The season was heading steadily into winter; that morning, Zuko kept his face at the small, barred window of his room, trying to drink up the last sunlight of the year.

A movement from the side caught his eye and he saw a small group of inmates being led out by Kyoshi warriors. Turning his head, he saw that the prisoners were his own Elites.

Lt. Ensei said something rude (Zuko couldn't hear it from here), and was shoved in the back for his trouble. Kaz, pasty-faced and limp, hung at the back and had to be prodded forward to keep up with the group. Qin, Faozu, and Oran were there as well—Zuko felt a stirring of relief that they were all alive and unhurt.

Then Kaz turned to the side, and caught sight of Zuko's face in the window. His brow wrinkled for a moment, as if trying to remember something, and then cleared in recognition. He smiled; a nervous, unsure expression. Zuko was sure that if Kaz's hands had been untied, he would have waved.

Leaning over, Kaz whispered something into Lt. Ensei's ear, and immediately the yellow-haired man whipped around, glaring suspiciously in Zuko's direction. When Zuko waved solemnly from his window, Ensei's face broke into an ironic grin and he nodded back. One of the warriors caught sight of this and snapped forward, pushing Ensei and the rest of the Elites back around the corner, away from Zuko's side of the building. Zuko and Ensei exchanged a look before the Elites were lead away; what did the Kyoshians think they were going to do, formulate an escape plan by blinking at each other in secret code?

And so that was practically the only highlight of Zuko's day, aside from the visits he received when Katara brought him his food.

"How is your niece doing?"

"She had a traumatic breakdown yesterday after being handled so roughly by you."

Zuko raised one eyebrow. "You're a liar."

She gave him a quick, slightly bitter smile: "But you already knew that."

He didn't move his gaze from her face for a long time. Then he turned away, towards the window. "Sometimes I wonder—I think—no, if I _understand_ your motives, your _why_, your _how come_, is it wrong for me to believe you were justified in your actions?"

She said nothing, the expression on her face unreadable.

"Or," he continued, "does it just make you less of an innocent and more of an enemy?"

Katara: "I could say the same thing about you."

He flashed her a quick glance again, "I know. You're in this war to protect your people and because it is your responsibility and your place in life. I'm in this war because it is also my responsibility—and it is what I was born to do. The very thing that drives me to do what I do is the same thing that makes you my enemy."

The unspoken question was: _What might have happened if we'd been born on the same side of war?_ _What possibilities, what 'could-haves' and 'if-onlys'?_

But she didn't say anything, and left quickly, as if she was scared to show him anything more.

After she was gone, Zuko slowly ate his food and drank his water. He was almost used to the acrid taste of the drug on his tongue now; a bad sign.

Hopefully, he wouldn't become addicted.

* * *

"And how is the prisoner's progress going?" the Mistress set down her calligraphy brush; Katara noticed the black ink dripping onto the white rice paper. 

"It's going—well," Katara replied, throat dry. Her knees ached on the floor covered by thin straw mats.

"Your interrogation," the Mistress said shortly, "by progress, I meant how is the interrogation going?"

_Interrogation_? Katara swallowed. "I'm not—I'm not sure what you—"

A sharp sound of wood on wood; the Mistress had noticed her brush dripping, and made a short movement to stop it. Her control was off and the brush rolled off the table and onto the mats, leaving a thick black streak behind it.

"Your original assignment," the Mistress said, voice cold, "was to collect information from the Emperor."

"Information?" Katara tried not to squeak, "I was confused by—by what information?"

A slight tightening of the white-painted skin over the Mistress' jaw: "What have you been doing on your little visits to the Emperor Zuko?"

"I just bring him his food, and sometimes there's talking—"

"I sincerely hope, Katara," said the Mistress, "that you aren't under any sort of… disillusionment about the Emperor."

"_Disillusionment_?"

"Exactly," said the Mistress, and she picked up her brush from the floor, ignoring the ink stain.

Katara's thoughts were wild for a moment (_Does she know? How—what—_) before she took a deep breath, cleared her mind, and set her shoulders. She met the Mistress's eyes and said, "No, madam, no disillusionments at all."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Katara moved to leave, even though she hadn't been formally dismissed yet.

"I also hope," Mistress began again, and Katara stilled, "that you'll remember your original goal, and you'll accomplish it without me having to resort to more… unconventional methods of questioning."

Unconventional methods, Katara guessed, meant torture. Or, at the least, something very much like it.

* * *

"How was your—" 

"Good," she said shortly, cutting him off at the same time she set the tray down, roughly, on the floor of his room.

"Could you tell me what day of the year—"

"Tenth day of the Eleventh month," she replied, not meeting his eyes.

"_Someone's_ in a bad mood today—"

The screeching whine of the iron door shutting as she left brought a confused and angry look to his face. What was her problem?

Things had been just fine that morning.

* * *

Two days after Admiral Zhao left the harbor with his massive fleet, Iroh found a prophetic message in the bottom of his favorite teacup. 

He didn't consider himself any sort of expert tea leaf reader, but he was fairly adept at the basic elements of tea leaf prophesy, taught to him a long, long time ago by an old herb lady in the market he used to sneak out of the palace to visit. She thought him just another poor delivery boy trying to make his way in the world, and they became friends and met regularly to talk about all sorts of things, from the current state of the world to different varieties and flavors of tea (he preferred ginseng; her, jasmine.)

Somewhere along the way, they discovered Iroh's penchant for making impossible but accurate predictions in his tea leaves (five to one chance with ginseng, but twelve to one with jasmine). There was the time he prophesied the capture of a masked robber terrorizing the potter's district, and then there was the time he predicted to the very minute the instant that noble Lady Vuan gave birth to her first daughter after seven sons.

The last time the future spoke to him was when he learned the date of the herb lady's death; this information he kept to himself and told no one. When she passed away (the Fifteenth day of the Second month), Iroh returned to the palace and did not venture out into the public markets by himself again. It was also the last time he saw anything meaningful or prophetic in his tea leaves—everything after that was merely a sodden mass of vegetative matter in the bottom of a piece of fired clay.

But this day—this day, he saw a great and magnanimous fortune in the leaves arranged in his morning drink. It wasn't particularly clear; there were no dates, no names, no locations.

The tea leaves told Iroh that something Very Big was about to happen.

And using his impeccable sense of logic (weathered over the years by experience, old age, and copious amounts of ginseng), Iroh surmised (quite accurately) that this Very Big thing had something to do with his nephew, Admiral Zhao, and one curious girl named Katara whom he'd met once before.

Setting down his teacup, Iroh made a few interesting plans inside his head and decided to deliver a few interesting messages to a few interesting people.

It had been a long, long time since Iroh's last great adventure.

* * *

Leaving the jailhouse with her broken arm clutched tightly to her side in its sling, Katara wondered what she was going to do with the rest of her life. 

Almost a year ago, she'd been saddled with what seemed like an impossible goal. It had filled her vision, her world, her very being. She'd worked hard to accomplish it—and accomplish it she did, in a sort of roundabout, unsuccessful, and extremely painful way.

Now she was back in Kyoshi, living in her brother and sister-in-law's house, playing babysitter and nursemaid to her niece, who just happened to be the Avatar, the most powerful bender in the world. Or, _would be_ most powerful bender, once she stopped sucking her thumb and got potty trained.

The usual thing for girls her age would be to get married, and have a couple of healthy, screaming babies to carry on the Kyoshi bloodlines.

Marriage, Katara thought, was really out of the question. Since her reappearance on the Island, not one of the eligible young men in the village had approached her with that sort of proposition. She guessed they were all afraid of her—gossip traveled, and the stories of her mission and hardships had probably been blown grossly out of proportion. They either thought she was a depressed, incurable warrior torn apart by the brutalities of war and incapable of further human emotion, or a traitor and weakling too cowardly to have completed her assignment and killed the Emperor. Neither promised a healthy, normal relationship.

She supposed this was it: spend the rest of her days in her brother's house, watching Suyan grow up. Eventually she would tutor Suyan in the finer arts of Water bending—for the other elements, her niece would have to travel beyond the Island. A dangerous idea, considering the state of the world right now. And that was only assuming that Suyan survived the Empire's quest for the Avatar.

All of this thinking while walking home put Katara in a bad mood. Sokka watched his little sister bang around the tiny kitchen as soon as she got in, slamming pots in an attempt to make something so that Suki wouldn't have to cook after a long day of training when she got back to the house. He bounced Suyan on his knee, both of them observing Katara's antics with calm, almost identical expressions on their faces.

Dinner was rice and some kind of vegetables—Suki gave Sokka a look over the dinner table as Katara stared sullenly into her bowl.

_What happened?_ Suki mouthed.

_She came home and she was like this all the way through cooking dinner_, Sokka blinked back at her.

_Does it have something to do with... you know, _him Suki slanted a sideways look through her lashes.

_Who? _

_You know..._ _him_! That_ guy! _

_What are you talking about? _

_ Forget it_.

_No, I wanna know! What guy? _

"I know you're communicating through your secret Couples Only body language," Katara remarked tersely, setting aside her chopsticks, "and even though I might not understand you, I get enough that it's about me."

"We're just worried," Suki said.

"It's nothing serious," Katara mumbled back.

"What guy?" Sokka asked suspiciously.

Katara slammed down her bowl and left the table. Suyan giggled, flinging a bit of rice at her father's face.

"_What guy!_"

* * *

Katara wiggled under the covers, ignoring the sounds of Sokka and Suki in the other room, preparing for bed. She felt like a burden on her family; other, _normal_ girls her age were married and already out of the house, becoming responsible adults. 

Cooking meals and taking care of Suyan—these were about the only things she could do that made her worth keeping around. She'd had her moment in the spotlight. She'd been gone a year, doing important work, _meaningful_ work meant to help the Kyoshians' cause, and she'd come back a failure.

She'd experienced war, death, friendship, loyalty, and betrayal (the memories of Zhao's dungeon, the interrogation—it made her hands sweat, the bones in her broken arm ache).

Katara fell asleep, and dreamt of nothing. Pure, endless nothing.

* * *

One moment, her most worrisome thoughts were trivial and unimportant; the next, her world changed, taking a strange form and frightening her with its darkness. 

It was amazing, really, how fast things could change in so short a time.

Katara was woken in the dark by her brother's frightened face: "Katara! Wake up!"

She rolled over and rubbed her eyes. "What?"

"Fire Navy ships, out on the horizon!"

Instantly she was awake, transitioning from sleep to readiness with a soldier's efficiency (_Lt. Ensei trained me well_). "When?" she gasped out.

"The lookouts saw them, just after midnight. Thank goodness it was a clear night, or else it might have been too late."

Too late for _what_?

"What do we do?"

"Suki's already gone to wake all the warriors and make preparations."

Preparations for _what_?

Katara's hands shook; she buried them in her nightclothes.

"They'll be here," Sokka said softly, holding a sleeping Suyan against his shoulder, "by morning."

Katara tried to feel something—fear, anger, bravery. Anything. Her limbs tightened, her focus sharpened automatically, all from experience with sudden midnight ambushes against rebels during her time with the Elites. But, emotionally, she remained in what she supposed was a state of shock; a state of limbo, really. She was blank and stupid.

Sokka handed Suyan to her. "We have to get ready."

Get ready for _what_?

Sokka moved through the dark house, towards the front door; his entire body was a tense line. There was anxiety, and a sort of hard, weary readiness in his movements. Katara followed her brother dumbly, the only thought in her mind was not to drop the sleeping Suyan in her arms.

"Let's go," Sokka said crisply, and they left the house in the chill night air, heading down the path towards the village center. Bobbing lights could be seen through the trees, heading in the same direction. Katara guessed these were the other inhabitants of the island, warriors grimly rushing to where they were needed.

They rushed into the main meeting-house of the village alongside the other arriving warriors, pushing aside the door. The room was already half-full, the dim lanterns in the corners casting strange shadows on worried faces.

The Mistress sat at the head of the group sitting in a rectangular formation. Suki was next to her, face set and pale (Katara noticed her sister-in-law's white face paint had been applied in a hurry, for there was a smudge, a mistake, on her right temple—Katara longed to go over there and fix it, rub it back in place, and erase all evidence of wrongdoing).

These were good people, Katara knew. These people filling the room about her, whispering anxiously, darting glances at the Mistress, the sleeping Avatar, and her worried parents at the front of the room. Good people who didn't deserve this, the approaching violence and death.

This is my fault. If I had… if I _hadn't_…

"Thank you for coming so quickly," said the Mistress, and the murmurings in the room immediately died down.

"The rumors are true—the Fire Empire was sighted little over an hour ago, on the horizon. They aren't moving right now; their ships are stationary out there, perhaps because they are holding meetings, gathering forces, making plans, much as we are doing in here."

The Mistress paused. Suyan moved restlessly on Katara's shoulder

"They probably won't attack us tonight. They'll want to wait for the sun to come up, when their bending powers will be at their strongest. Thus, we'll probably have six hours, seven at the most, to prepare for an attack from the Fire Empire."

The rest of the conversation was almost meaningless to Katara; various discussions with various leaders and generals, sending out a messenger to call in reserves from other parts of the island, and the constant rehashing of tactics and plans. And presiding over all, the calm, emotionless face of the Mistress. She said barely a single word for the rest of the meeting; Suki was darting everywhere, face lined with worry, conversing with different groups about How many do they have? and What if our supplies run out?

It was uncanny, scary, _wrong_, the way the Mistress sat there and watched the people around her consumed with activity. Katara thought that perhaps, the Mistress was finally letting go and allowing her daughter, the one who would assume leadership once the Mistress stepped down, to take charge and experience what it was like to plan a battle and command soldiers. Suki had experience in that area—she was a seasoned veteran, a true warrior of Kyoshi, and Katara (as well as every other resident on the Island) had much faith and trust in her.

"Such a shame," said Lt. Chi in the corner to Suki, shaking his head sadly, "such a shame that all the Waterbenders are gone now. Water is Fire's weakness—it would help our odds if we had but one regiment of Waterbenders with us. And it's a full moon," he continued, eyes mournful, "if _only_…"

"It is unfortunate," Suki said stiffly, and there was a quick look from the corner of her eye towards where Katara was sitting silently next to Suyan and Sokka, "but unchangeable. The Empire's first order was to eradicate all the Tribes. There aren't enough Waterbenders out there to form even half a regiment."

"The Firebenders took the upper hand all those years ago and erased any chance of their one liability rising up and overpowering them," said Captain Liu, joining in the conversation. "An effective political and military move, but genocidal massacre is inhumane and evil."

"Any sort of war is inhumane and evil," said Suki, a small note of regret in her voice, "but it is necessary." Her voice changed. "Please, sirs, let us get back on the subject of our deployment of warriors. The second division should stay behind in the forest, to prevent a strike from the side of the island, should the Firebenders…"

Katara knew that she would fight, and she would do it with sword, spears, and iron-tipped arrows. Her trying to Waterbend by herself against the Firebending armies of the Empire would be like a spoonful of river water trying to put out a raging forest fire. It would draw attention to her; the commanders of the Empire would want to kill her immediately, destroy any chance of her spawning more evil, Water progeny. She was a threat, a small threat, but one worth getting rid of.

She would join the battle against the invading Empire (a _hopeless_ battle; she quickly erased the traitorous thought from her mind) but she would pretend to be another Kyoshian warrior, skilled in hand-to-hand combat, not the bending arts.

The hour progressed swiftly, and people sped in and out of the meeting house doors; somewhere along the way, Katara realized that the Mistress had left.

She went up behind Suki and gently touched her shoulder. "Where did your mother go?"

Suki, quietly excusing herself from a conversation with General Xiang, furrowed her brow at Katara. "She left?"

"Awhile ago, probably. I just noticed."

"She's getting old," Suki said, dismissing it. "She probably needs her sleep."

Katara doubted it. How could anyone, especially the leader of the Island, possibly sleep at a time like this? "If you say so."

Suki had already moved on to other subjects. She drew Katara outside, sliding the screen door shut behind her after reassuring the occupants that she'd be back in a second to continue their discussion.

"I'm assuming, Katara, that you'll want to join us in the fight against the Empire," said Suki calmly. Her eyes glinted with the silvery brightness of a full moon in the sky.

"Of course, Suki—"

"But I'm going to have to ask you to stay behind," Suki finished. She looked like she was waiting for Katara to explode.

And explode she did. "_What_?" Then she stopped, and something occurred to her that further incensed her anger. "If you think, for a single moment, that my loyalties are in question—"

"I don't doubt your loyalties, Katara," said Suki, "None of us do."

"Then—then _why_?"

"I need you for more important things," Suki said. Her eyes drifted towards one shadow thrown against the inside of the thin screen door; the shadow of a grown man holding his sleeping daughter against his chest. "Both your brother and I will be needed to command divisions of warriors in the upcoming battle—we need someone trustworthy and strong to protect Suyan."

Katara was silent.

"They want her badly, Katara. You and I both know that. She, and the Emperor Zuko, are the Empire's reasons for taking the pains to amass such a large army against what everyone knows is a painfully small and easily overtaken Island force—"

"We won't be easily overtaken!"

"Don't be a fool, Katara!" Suki's voice was suddenly harsh in the night. "Don't trick yourself into believing something that's not true—it won't help you, or anybody else!"

Katara wanted to retaliate with a brave, courageous proclamation or something equally confident, but she knew her words would be as Suki had said: a lie.

Suki had regained her composure. "I apologize—let's keep our voices down. I don't want the other warriors thinking that something has gone wrong."

Katara nodded.

"So you'll do it?" Suki asked carefully. "You'll take care of Suyan and stay away from the battle?"

Katara nodded again. It was, really, the least she could do, after betraying the Avatar's location to Zhao in the first place. She owed it to Suyan, and Suki, and everybody on the Island.

"What about the Emperor?" Katara asked. "They're going to want him too."

"We're leaving behind warriors to guard the prison house," Suyan said, "And if worse comes to worse,"—_if we're defeated—_"then we'll use him as ransom, as our last chance."

"We think the Fire Navy will begin their attack at dawn, so we have at least five hours left," said Suki, turning back to slide open the door. "When it starts, you'll stay with Suyan in the main village with the others who can't fight. We'll leave a small guard to protect the village, but nothing substantial. It'll be up to you to keep her safe."

Five hours, Katara thought as she reentered the room behind Suki, five hours until everything she held dear went up in flames.

Because they would need a miracle for a victory.

* * *

Admiral Zhao had ordered all the lamps and lights on the ships doused. The fleet was clothed in darkness, except for the faint light provided by the moon. 

"It's full tonight," Captain Jiang said worriedly, looking out over the deck. "A bad omen, Admiral."

Zhao laughed. "Don't tell me you believe in that idiot superstition, Captain. What does it matter that the moon's full? The Waterbenders are dead. Even the Goddess of the Moon wouldn't be able to bring them back."

"True," said Jiang, but his eyes still scanned the sky. The moon seemed to glow down on them with a baleful eye—Jiang saw bitterness and anger in everything the Goddess coloured silver: the metal-hulled Fire ships, the quiet waves of the ocean, the derisive face of the Admiral.

"But," continued the Captain, "I think all the troops, myself included, would feel better about this attack if we were to wait until dawn, when the power of the sun heightens and strengthens our fire—"

"We are fighting a rabble of backwards islanders who consider themselves warriors," Admiral Zhao waved a hand, "there could be three full moons in the sky and it wouldn't change the outcome of this battle."

Captain Jiang subsided; he didn't want to endanger his own life by pushing Admiral Zhao too far.

"My strategy is a good strategy," said Admiral Zhao, "the Kyoshians are expecting us to wait until sunup to attack. They're probably still running about that minuscule island of theirs, thinking they still have hours left to prepare some sort of insignificant resistance. If we engage them _now_, they'll be caught unawares and unready. It won't make any difference in the end, of course—we'll win either way—but I want to minimize the cost to our troops and our supplies and our time."

Captain Jiang nodded slowly and sullenly. He had to admit that Admiral Zhao made sense—ambushing the enemy out of the blue had proved to be a good strategy in past wars (the surprise mass attack that started the genocide on the Water tribes over a hundred years ago was an example). Still, he was uncertain. He hated the dark of the night without the sun, and he especially hated the idea that it was a full moon. He couldn't shake off her wide, accusing glare; the silver light settled hard on his shoulders and wouldn't let him go. Admiral Zhao couldn't possibly not _feel_ it—the entire crew was uneasy.

Satisfied that this conversation was over and done with, the Admiral nodded to the soldier stationed at the bow of the ship.

The soldier—a young boy of seventeen; this was his first time in true combat, and he was excited and ready and he felt so _immortal_—nodded back eagerly at Zhao. Then he raised one fist high, and ignited the air above him in a long, roaring column of flame. The yellow-red blast completely overpowered the gentle silver of the moon, and threw excited, hungry shadows on the faces of the young soldier, Admiral Zhao, and Captain Jiang.

On the ship next to them, the Firebender stationed at the prow of the boat saw the signal, and raised his own fist into the air, sending another flame up. And the next ship over, and the next; all down the line, until every ship in the fleet had its own blazing, courageous banner flying above it.

Looking at the soldier, the perfect picture of a brave young Firebender sending up the signal of war, Captain Jiang lost his previous trepidations and a sense of confidence overcame him. The light of the moon was drowned out by the fire, and he began to think that Admiral Zhao had been right—there was no threat from the Moon, no threat from Water, and definitely no threat from those filthy Kyoshian rebels.

The heavy machinery in the hull of the ship below them groaned and slowly began to churn, driving the prow of the ship through the water. The first blast of smoke exited one of the tall, proud iron columns high above the deck, and the soldiers cheered.

They began to pick up speed, and raced toward the island ahead of them.

* * *

There was an incomprehensible yell from outside the meeting room. It sounded like somebody was running up the path to the door while screaming at full volume. Suki tensed as she tried to figure out what the noise was about, and Katara's head swiveled just in time to see a curled-up figure burst clean through the wooden frame of the screen door, ripped paper and wood chips flying everywhere. 

"What, you couldn't take the time to _open_ the door in your haste—" General Xiang began icily.

"_Fire Navy ships!_" the person on the floor panted and rose to his hands and knees, shaking off wood shards in his hair, "_THEY'RE ATTACKING! They're_—"

But Suki was already on her feet and issuing orders. People swarmed around the room—buckling on armor and shouting more commands to more underlings.

"_Help me tie this, on the side here…" _

_ "I need at least two hundred more arrows delivered to the second division, or holding off the Fire Navy will be a joke…" _

_ "My best sword is back at my sister's house, on the other side of the island…" _

_ "No! It goes on the _left_ side, you dimwit, not the right side…" _

_ "Half of the third regiment is still asleep!" _

_ "This is a disaster. A disaster. Why didn't they wait until dawn?" _

Katara helped Suki adjust her helmet (it wasn't part of a traditional Kyoshi warrior's uniform—but times had changed, and so had customs). Somewhere along the way, she found an extra, and set it on her own head automatically, tightening the straps. Then armor appeared on her body; she pulled on the heavy green cloth clumsily with one hand, and then the outer shell of hard brown leather.

Unthinking, she picked up a spear from a rack someone had brought in and leaned against the wall. Her fingers slid over the smooth wood, felt the balance of the iron tip, and began to move with the shuffle of gathering warriors streaming out of houses and towards the beach—

A hand yanked hard on her shoulder, spinning her around. "Katara!"

She blinked mindlessly into Suki's angry face. "Wh—what?"

"Have you already forgotten your promise to me?" Suki's voice was filled with tight emotion. "_Have you_?"

Oh. Right. Katara shook her head, and dropped the spear to the ground. "No—No, where is Suyan?" How could she have been so stupid? She had been following all the others like a dumb herd animal—was the life of the soldier so engrained into her that she barely even questioned it now?

Sokka, with Suyan in his arms, pushed through the crowd until he was next to them. He kissed his daughter on the forehead, face a mask of hard love, before depositing Suyan in Katara's embrace. Suki leaned forward, brushing her hand across Suyan's smooth forehead, tucking hair behind tiny ears, countless other motions that spoke of a mother's love for her child, before she turned away with Sokka, mouth set in a firm line and eyes glimmering strangely in the torchlight.

"Take care of her," said Sokka, and enveloped Katara and Suyan in a quick and tight hug.

They left, several other officers and commanders hanging onto their sides, discussing plans and decisions. Suki and Sokka were important, very crucial to this war, this night—the Mistress was nowhere to be seen.

Slowly, the square began to empty, warriors marching off in organized ranks towards the main beach where the Fire Navy was heading. Then there were only a few people left; Katara, Suyan, and other non-military peoples (children and the elderly, mostly).

The anxious and fearful people next to her milled around aimlessly, whispering and confirming gossip and facts (what was one _supposed_ to do when waiting for a war to begin?). They knew war; they knew war when their own warriors left the Island to fight in a foreign land, but they did not know war when it touched their shores and encroached upon their everyday lives. Should they gather all the foodstuffs and buckets of water in their possession, as if awaiting a long-term siege? Should they arm themselves with farm tools, rakes, shovels, hoes, and kitchen knives? Should they hide the children and babies in cellars, or spirit them away to the dark, dense forest?

Eventually they all left, because they had nothing to do but go back to their houses, light a small candle in the window, and wait for the return of family members and loved ones involved in the battle (hopefully alive).

Katara stood in the center of the square as Suyan began to squirm in her arms, and her legs began to ache.

She stood still, so still, body hungering and ears listening for any sound, any sound at all that would tell her what was happening on the sand dunes of the beach.

Suyan began to cry.

* * *

From the bridge of the ship, Admiral Zhao could see the dark, furtive movements of enemy troops on the beach. Were they making an effort to conceal their position at all? He snorted. A rhino in the throne room of the Fire Palace could do a better job of hiding than those rebels. 

Zhao said the command, and teams of Firebenders on deck let loose the catapults, sending streaming balls of fire over the short distance between his ship and the rebel beach, impacting in the trees and sand. Screams filled the air; several bodies leapt up in the air before slamming back down to the ground, unmoving.

"Fire at will," shouted the Admiral, and the catapults continued their deadly work as the ships moved ever closer to the beach. The fireballs would give his troops cover, keep the rebels distracted, as the main body of Firebenders and soldiers disembarked onto the beach.

He could feel the whole ship shudder as the keel ran aground in the soft sand underwater. Shouts outside could be heard as ladders were dropped over sides, smaller rowboats readied for the short distance across water to the beach. He could see light reflecting off the helmets and armor of Firebenders and troops on deck.

They were ready.

* * *

Zuko looked out the window at the faint explosions far off, beyond the forest, and felt the beginnings of a warmth in the tips of his fingers. The last time he'd had his drugged water was noon; if not taken again, the effects began to wear off after twelve hours. It was a few hours past midnight. 

He sat down to wait for the invasion, moving his body into the far corner of his cell, so the moonlight couldn't touch him.

* * *

After awhile, Katara noticed that Suyan was choking on her sobs. Rubbing and patting her back, cooing gently in her ear, Katara swayed from side to side, trying to calm the Avatar down. Just because there was a war being fought out upon their shores didn't mean Katara could lose her head any old time she wanted. She had responsibilities, duties. 

She set the Avatar down, just for a quick second, and stood up, stretching her back.

Suyan made a slight sniffling noise, having stopped her crying, and face screwed up with visible effort, managed to get her two feet under her before standing up straight, arms held out for balance. She laughed.

Katara tried not to cry.

Bending over, she had Suyan grasp one of her fingers in each chubby fist, and led her small niece around the square, one shaky step at a time. Katara wished Suki and Sokka could be here to see this. Every time she heard another boom of a Fire catapult, she flinched, and after awhile, Suyan became agitated at her aunt's nervousness and anxiety. Katara calmed herself for Suyan, and tried to ignore the noises she heard. Her world shrank; it became Suyan's tiny feet advancing forward, her own larger ones following behind, and repeat, over and over again.

After awhile, Suyan became tired. They sat together on the ground, Suyan held in Katara's lap, and leaned against the wall of a building. Her eyelids grew heavy, and her niece's head was lolling to the side. Katara closed her eyes for a brief second—only a brief second, she promised herself—

Then there was a slow, languorous beating against her eyelids, like the warm glow of a living heart, red and pulsing. It would not subside, and seemed to grow stronger and stronger, hotter and hotter.

Her eyes opened (Suyan was asleep against her) and noticed a faint, red-gold brightness, through the trees that lead to the beach. She squinted, drawing Suyan closer to her, and the scent of smoke drifted through the wind to her nose. She realized what the glow was, what the smoke was—burning trees.

Dark, leaping and running figures threaded through the forest, towards the village; one of them was on fire. Katara leapt to her feet, but these weren't the invading Fire Navy soldiers. Kyoshi warriors burst from the foliage, running past Katara, pounding on doors and giving the warning that the Fire Navy had blazed through the first line of defenses—the enemy was on the way to the village.

The man on fire screamed, a high-pitched wail of pain, flailing his arms. His comrades held him back to prevent him from burning down any buildings, throwing him to the ground to roll him over and beat the flames out. Somebody brought a bucket of water and splashed it over him; his cries subsided into pants, pathetic cries and sobs. The smell of burning flesh was horrible, it choked her nose and made her turn away, picking up Suyan and shielding her eyes from the sight of the charred, black man.

Then one more figure, the last in the line coming from the forest, darted across the square, heading straight towards Katara; he slammed into her at full speed, and she almost cried out before Sokka's hands were on her face, brushing hair from her eyes, smoothing over her cheeks.

"Where's Suyan? Where's—there she is, there she is," He kissed his daughter forcefully on the forehead; she whimpered, "Katara—listen to me—"

Her brother's breath was hot, his entire body was shaking, and there was a light burn on one of his arms. She grasped at it, "Sokka, you're hurt, let me see that—Where's Suki—"

"_Listen to me!_" He shook off her attentions violently, and she shrank back. His hands still cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were half-crazed, filled with a burning urgency (she didn't want to know what he'd seen, out there on the beach; the men he'd killed) and his voice was low, shaking.

"You're _scaring_ me, Sokka—"

He ignored her entreaty. "Katara, you must listen. _Listen_ to me. On the other side of the island—take the path off the side by the bathhouse—there is a boat—"

"A boat? What boat, Sokka, what are you talking about—"

"—a boat, a goddamn boat, and if things get bad, if the fire gets here, if things start burning, then you're going to get _in_ the boat—"

"What do you mean! You're crazy, your arm is hurt, you need help—"

"Fucking _listen_ to me, Katara!" His hands on her face were trembling, and she fell silent.

"If things get bad," and now Sokka's voice was calm, steady, "you are going to take Suyan, and you are going to run as fast as you possibly can to the other side of the island, and you will get in that boat, and you will use the oars, or your whatever-magic, or your fucking hands, and you are going to get as far away from this island as humanly possible."

She stared at him, aghast. Suyan began to cry.

"You are going to take Suyan, you are going to take my daughter," his voice almost broke here, "and you are going to hide. You'll raise her, teach her whatever she needs to know about water, and find some other master when she needs it, and you'll save the goddamn world."

But Katara was still hung up, some three, half-crazed sentences back. "What do you mean, if things get bad?"

"We're losing."

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Sokka was still breathing heavily, but sanity had come back into his eyes.

She pushed Suyan toward Sokka. "Why don't you take her?"

He pushed his daughter back toward his sister, and Katara could see how much of an effort it took him to do so. "We—we already talked about this, me and Suki and the Mistress. We decided that in the event of an emergency, you would be the one to escape with Suyan. Neither I nor Suki would be able to teach Suyan any kind of bending after escaping. Us three—with you, four—are the only ones who know about this plan."

Katara understood the reasoning behind the secrecy. If she and Suyan escaped—if things "got bad"—then the Empire would search for the Avatar, and when they discovered she wasn't on the Island, would interrogate the Kyoshians for her whereabouts. Fierce loyalty would keep the citizens quiet, but there were always mentally and physically weaker ones in a crowd, and inevitably, somebody would give up the information in order to prevent the death or torture of loved ones. Keeping the plan secret, confined to a select group of people who would _never_ reveal Suyan's location, was the safest bet. Katara knew that they could torture Suki and Sokka for a year, applying all sorts of atrocities, and neither would ever give up their daughter to the Empire.

"We're going to try to keep them from reaching the village, maybe make some sort of deal," Sokka continued, "but we don't have enough warriors to hold them back, and they're going to want Suyan, no matter what. We'll try to bargain with the Emperor's life instead—maybe they'll take _him_ over her."

With a shock, Katara remembered Zuko. It almost seemed like she'd forgotten his very existence for a moment. He was still in his cell, and she wondered what he was feeling, what he was thinking now that he knew his country was here to rescue him. Was he elated? Overjoyed? Excited? Could he see the fires burning, crackling through the forest from his prison window?

Sokka was still talking, eyes fixed on his daughter's face. "But it's unlikely," he said, almost to himself, "They have so many, and we have so little. They'll want her, no matter what. And they'll get her, unless you can escape."

"Where's Suki?"

"She's leading the warriors back from the beach and organizing a defense around the village—"

An explosion sounded from inside the forest, closer this time. People around her screamed, and she could see dead trees and sparks flying through the air, catching on fire. There was a group of warriors running just ahead of the fireball, led by an ash-covered woman. They began to form up in some semblance of a line, archers in the trees, before Suki finally found Sokka and Katara.

"They're coming," she said stiffly, running to meet them. Katara could see how tiredly the sword hung from her hand, how her face paint was stained gray by soot, and how she was fighting to keep upright. "Have you told Katara about—"

"I've told her," said Sokka, and Suyan, seeing her mother, raised her fists in the air and cried piteously.

Sokka settled Suyan in her mother's arms. Katara noticed how tightly Suki clutched the baby to her chest, stroking the tiny wisps of brown hair at her smooth forehead, kissing the beautifully made curls and whorls of her ear. Katara watched them, her family: Sokka hovering anxiously over his woman and his child, Suki caressing her darling, her daughter, and Suyan whimpering, feeling the agitation and heat in the air and knowing something was horribly _wrong_.

Then Suki turned away, pushing Suyan back towards Katara, shoulders trembling; Sokka lingered, one hand sliding down Katara's face to her jaw line, a gentle Thank You, a regretful Good Bye.

There was a gigantic roar and they felt a blast of heat wash over their faces; one of the trees bordering the village had caught fire, and behind it, the dark shapes of marching soldiers in formation advanced. A wooden house on the edge of the village burst into flame; the family inside ran out (the grandparents and two children), screaming and beating at their clothes.

The first rank of Firebenders broke through the burning trees, led by a tall, determined figure whose fists were aflame. His face was hidden by the helmet; but then he turned, and his eyes connected across the square with Katara's.

It was Admiral Zhao.

He smiled at her (_You can run, but you can't hide_), and raising his fist, set fire to another house in his way.

Katara felt a dark dread overtake her heart. If Zhao was here, there'd be no stopping the invasion until he had both Zuko and Suyan in his grasp; she tugged at her brother's arm, desperate to tell him that there was no chance of escaping, _no hope at all_—

Sokka shoved her violently toward the path leading out of the village: "Go!"

* * *

Katara saw the deadly, flaming light in the sky, head the faint screams of dying men, and before she knew it, she was running, feet slapping over the dirt, with Suyan clutched to her chest. She guessed that it would take her fifteen minutes to reach the other side of the island at her current speed, but she knew she would have to go slower and rest once in awhile with the extra weight of Suyan in her arms. 

Trees flashed by, and she passed by the last building in the village, the jailhouse—the _jailhouse! _

She had no idea what she was doing, but her feet took her off the path, flying up to the building.

She screeched to a halt outside, the confused and annoyed guards immediately accosting her.

"What are you doing here—"

"How is the battle going?"

Katara put on a look that was as desperate and scared as she possibly could (it wasn't hard) and pointed back toward the village. "It's bad, horrible—Suki sent me to tell you that she needs all the warriors in the village. The Empire's setting fire to everything!" She made her voice rise to shriek at the end.

Several guards immediately set off for the village, running as fast as possible. The others gave her worried looks. "But we were told to guard the Emperor—"

"He's not going anywhere, he's locked in his cell!" Katara snapped. "They need you in the village!"

They were glad to go, all they needed was the excuse—they hated being held behind, guarding a prisoner that wasn't going to escape anytime soon. They wanted to help their people, protect their homes; they wanted to do _something _

Then she was through the door, down the long passageway until she was inside the prison house, and right outside of Zuko's cell.

There he was: head tilted to the barred window, eyes wide and unblinking, fixed upon the bright explosions drawing closer and closer. Then he heard her harsh breathing, and turned.

"They've come, haven't they?" he asked simply.

"Zhao has."

He swore, and his face changed from unreadable calm to frightened anger.

She wasn't sure why she was there. Suyan was crying, burrowing against her shoulder: the Avatar was confused, jostled, and had spent majority of her night being passed from person to person and shaken awake one too many times.

"He won't stop until he has both of us, and the Avatar. He's already seen me—he knows I'm here." She thought of her brother and Suki out there, fighting against an invading army that they had no chance of defeating; she wasn't even sure she'd see them again—

"You should leave," he said, getting up from his sitting position and pacing over to the bars. "You should leave before he follows you and finds you."

"And you?"

"He won't kill me, not in front of half the navy—"

"He can, and he will, Zuko. You didn't see him. I saw him, and I know that he'll get you, somehow, and he'll enjoy it."

"Then what the hell do you suggest I do?"

She was already tugging the loop of keys from inside her robe; her hands shook violently as she inserted the right key, unlocked the cell, and dropped the ring to the ground. He stared at her, speechless. Neither moved to open the door.

Katara backed away, holding Suyan to her with one arm, and holding out her other hand as if she was scared he would charge her. "The Elites—the rest of them—they're on the other side of the building. The keys will get them out."

She ran from Zuko's cell as fast as she could; Suyan wailed in protest at the bouncing she was being put through.

She kept running, back on the path, through the trees. One foot in front of the other, again and again, Suyan held tightly to her chest. At one point she realized she couldn't breathe, and she was crying, tears streaming down her face. She collapsed on the side of the path, against a tree trunk, panting and choking and trying not to make so much noise. Suyan whimpered and patted her face, trying to reassure her.

Katara knew she didn't have time to feel sorry for herself, so she stood up, wiping her snot and tears on one sleeve, and gathered Suyan close again. She set off into the darkness, at a slower but steadier pace this time. She began to think of tiny mundane details in order to calm herself, not about Sokka or Suki or Zuko or Zhao. She remembered that she had no food for an ocean voyage—how long would it take her, even with her Waterbending, to reach the mainland, the Earth Kingdom? She had no money, nothing to bargain with. She didn't know if the people there would agree to hide her and Suyan, or turn them in as fast as possible to the Empire.

There! Where the trees began to end, she could see the dark glimmer of moonlight on water. And the boat—a small wooden thing on the beach, just as Sokka had said. Katara ran faster, she knew she would reach it in time now. She and Suyan could start a new life together, somewhere, in hiding, and she would tell her niece stories of her parents everyday, of how brave they'd been, protecting their island and their people to the very last.

They broke through the last of the trees, thin branches whipping her face as her feet began to sink into sand. There was the boat, not thirty feet away, with two fragile-looking oars inside. Their one escape, their last chance, resting on the beach, tiny wavelets lapping at the sun-bleached hull.

A hand grasped her neck and snapped her around, throwing her to the sand.

Stars exploded behind her eyes as her head connected sharply against the ground. They were everywhere, men in the faceless masks of the Empire, tiny black eyeholes watching her. She was frozen in shock—what? No!

Then she burst into motion. She clutched Suyan to her body with her bad arm, tightly, so tightly it hurt, and rolled over, kicking and shrieking like a wildcat, catching a few of them in the stomach and crotch. She forgot all her training, all her bending, resorting to the most primitive of base human instincts—to protect her _child._

She was on her feet when rough hands grabbed her back, grasping her throat, her hair, prying apart her arms—she tried to hold on as hard as she could, Suyan wailing against her breast—somebody wrenched her head back, and tears leapt to the corner of her eyes—Katara couldn't _see_, couldn't feel—and then Suyan was gone, _gone_, she was holding empty air, NO—she screamed, a long, never-ending wail that keened across the beach and split the night air.

The Avatar cried, wiggling against her captor. An insane fervor seized Katara and she was scratching, struggling, all the while her throat pouring forth that high sound. She couldn't think straight, couldn't form a single coherent thought except that Suyan needed to be back in her arms, that she could not fail, not again, not this time when the stakes were the highest. She clawed at the face of the men around her, leaping forward against their hold, reaching, stretching for the soldier holding Suyan, "DON'T TOUCH HER!"

Then a flash in the woods, and a pale hand was in her vision, delivering a sharp crack across her cheek.

Katara fell silent as she stared into the black, fathomless eyes of the Mistress.

"Shut up," said her mother.

Katara went limp, would have fallen to the ground if not for the Fire soldiers keeping her upright. Suyan continued to wail behind the Mistress. The sound seemed to reach Katara through her stupor and a light returned to her eyes.

"Why?" she asked.

The Mistress ignored her, turning to the soldiers. "Take her back to the village. Admiral Zhao should have finished by now."

The soldiers nodded, yanking Katara up by her arms. She felt them begin to wrap a rope tightly around her wrists. The man with Suyan passed the baby to the Mistress—Katara felt a perverse satisfaction as Suyan began to cry even louder as soon as she was in her grandmother's arms.

Then they pushed her forward, back the way she'd come on the path. Back to the burning village. Back to Admiral Zhao.

* * *

Katara's eyes were wide as they passed through the village—or what used to be the village. It was silent, obscenely so. Smoking husks of houses lay on the ground, gardens ruined and trampled. The ancient wooden statue of Avatar Kyoshi, the island's namesake, their ancestral protectoress, was no more than a pile of ashes. There were bodies too, but these Katara passed over, scared to look too closely, for fear of recognizing someone. Bodies in green and red as well, but the still forms dressed in forest armor lay more thickly than their fiery counterparts. 

The Mistress said nothing, and Suyan was quiet. They kept going, into the forest, on the trail that the Empire had blazed through, burning down trees in their path. Branches and twigs crackled beneath their feet—at one point, Katara saw a bird's nest on the ground, yolk spilling out of cracked, robin-blue eggs. For some reason, this brought her to open her mouth, to turn to face the woman next to her: "Why did you do it?"

"You wouldn't understand," the Mistress replied calmly, eyes staring straight ahead. "You wouldn't understand the things I've done to save Kyoshi, to save my people."

Katara's eyes widened in shock and then angry disbelief. "To _save_ Kyoshi?" The Mistress was insane. Absolutely insane. "You've just delivered the Avatar into the hands of the nation who most want her dead! No sort of reasoning could ever justify your actions today!"

"Don't attempt to judge when you only know one part of the whole story," the Mistress replied, and perhaps now, there was a note of concealed frustration in her voice.

"So why don't you tell me?"

The Mistress was thin-lipped; silent.

"I hope you regret what you've done," Katara said, "Because if you don't, then you truly are a monster."

Katara turned to stare through the trees. They were nearing the end of the forest, and she could see a faint strip of light on the horizon. Dawn.

Katara almost tripped through the soft sand as she was dragged down the beach, the Mistress following close behind, Suyan held in her arms. The great iron ships of the Fire Navy were anchored not far out in the harbor, and several dozen smaller row boats were beached on the sand—a sand stained red, in dark, sorrowful patches. Green-clad bodies, some dead and unmoving, others tied and silent on the ground, guarded by masked Firebenders.

And there, at the edge of the beach, where the waves lapped against earth, stood a tall, _victorious_ figure, in discussion with lesser officers. On the ground, a few feet away, were two slumped-over warriors with their arms and legs tied together roughly. One had half her face paint smeared off. They were still; unmoving. Katara's heart froze as her eyes took in this tableau. _Please move_, she begged them, _Breathe. Breathe for me_.

Sokka's eyes opened and met hers across the beach.

"Katara!" his voice was sore, burned-out.

Zhao's head turned from his conversation and as he saw her, a slow smile spread across his features.

"Good morning," he said slowly, the triumphant expression never leaving his face. "Bring them closer!" he snapped to the soldiers holding Katara upright.

As she was shoved nearer and nearer to the Admiral, Katara kept her chin upright, eyes steady. She would not give into the overwhelming fear inside her; fear for herself, fear for Sokka and Suki, but fear for Suyan most of all.

"Leave us," Zhao commanded, as soon as Katara had been dragged to the sand in front of him, and shoved to her knees. The soldiers bowed obediently and faded into the background, joining their comrades in keeping watch on the subdued groups of warriors along the beach. Zhao, Katara, the Mistress, and Suyan, huddled in her grandmother's arms, seemed alone on an island of distrust and silence and hatred among the carnage of battle around them.

"I must say," Zhao began, "that was the easiest invasion I've ever had to conduct. However, part of the credit would have to go to my ally here, the Mistress of Kyoshi." He gave her a nod. The Mistress nodded stiffly back.

"_Ally_?"

"Indeed," Zhao continued smoothly. "There was a deal made, sometime ago, between us."

Katara turned a horrified face to the Mistress. "What is he talking about?" Then it hit her. "_What did you trade Suyan for_?"

"Your niece was just part of the package," the Admiral continued as the Mistress remained silent, "What I had in mind goes far, far back. It concerns you, in fact.

"You see," Zhao explained, "I wanted Emperor Zuko dead. I wanted him dead the minute he was born. I decided he would be the last in a long line of weak, insufficient rulers, tainted by the blood of that Water scum the first Zuko spawned a child on.

"I wanted him dead, but I needed it done in a way that it would never be connected back to myself. I could not commission a man to assassinate the Emperor, because if caught, then there was no certainty that my name might not escape from the lips of the would-be assassin if torture was applied.

"That's where your Mistress came in, and so graciously provided the perfect assassin for me."

All of a sudden, Katara understood. Zhao had needed a way to kill the Emperor while distancing himself completely from the act, so that when the Empire called for a new ruler, there would be no taint or suspicion upon the honorable Admiral's name. He'd needed the perfect assassin, the killer who had no idea who her true employer was, who would never be able to turn around and point the finger at him.

And Katara realized she'd been fooled.

While comprehension dawned, and a sort of numbness spread throughout her body, the Admiral's smile widened.

"You might be gullible, and easily deceived, but you are not a stupid girl. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

He was enjoying this. He was enjoying the expression on her face, the betrayal, the absolute horror. She knew he wanted to see her break down, to see her scream and wail and beat her fists upon the earth.

"In return," he continued, "your Mistress wanted peace for Kyoshi. She wanted the future Empire, under my rule, to leave Kyoshi Island alone forever."

Katara felt her arms trembling. This entire time—from the very beginning, the morning of her initiation, when her task had been revealed to her—she had thought that all her pain, all her weariness, all her hard fucking _work_, had been for the good of Kyoshi, and not the twisted ambitions of a power-hungry Admiral in the Fire Navy. The Mistress had lied to her. Katara had merely been a puppet on a string, a piece on a game board between the Mistress and the Admiral, something to be manipulated and moved according to their almighty wishes and desires.

That night, at Adia's banquet, when she'd first met Admiral Zhao, when she'd _danced_ with him—he'd known all along who she was. What she was there for. Who she was sent to kill. Whose bidding she was truly doing.

He must have enjoyed that, dangling her about, teasing her, mocking her. And in the dungeon—

"But you failed me!" the Admiral said. "You were weak, your resolve wasn't strong enough," he smiled, "but that was probably to be expected, you being both a Waterbender and a rebel. You didn't kill him, and my plan fell through. My time was being wasted. I wanted—no, _needed_—the Emperor dead faster. When you arrived at Luxing Fort, with the Emperor bellowing for the traitor to reveal himself, I thought that somehow you had found out the truth and told the Emperor. I wanted you dead.

"You will never know how close I came to giving into temptation," and here he was almost snarling, like a child who had been denied a reward, "but in the end, I received some satisfaction from the expressions on the faces of those who'd trusted you as they realized you were a traitorous spy, the _enemy_."

"So why didn't you?" Katara whispered, and she was back in that stone cell beneath the fort, with all her comrades' eyes on her, shocked and betrayed, "Why didn't you do it?"

"There was a second part of our agreement," here the Mistress cut in, softly; Katara's head snapped around to gape at her, "and that was your safety and your ignorance. I demanded that no matter what happened, your life would never be forfeit, and you would never learn the truth. But in order to do so, I needed to give up something else, something bigger. I had not completed the first part of the deal—the Emperor was still alive. The Admiral wanted something to make up for that shortcoming, and my second request was for your life. That was—that was where Suyan came in."

And there was an expression on the Mistress's face that Katara had never seen before—an almost _begging_ sort of look

"Don't you see, Katara? I loved you, all along, in my own way," and she slipped a hand to curve over Katara's cheek, cradling her face the way a mother would with her darling child, "My beautiful daughter."

The phrase reminded Katara, with a shock, of dark nightmares and worried gold eyes hovering over her in the stillness of the night. She shot back, wrenching her arms against her ropes and her face away from the Mistress.

"You—you traded Suyan to the Admiral for an assassination that didn't go through? Your own _granddaughter!_" her voice ended on a wail.

"I traded her for your safety!" the Mistress's voice rose, something else Katara had never heard. "I traded her for the safety of all of Kyoshi Island! You must sacrifice the few for the good of the many—and I have succeeded!"

But Katara just stared at her. "There will be no peace. You were an idiot to trust Admiral Zhao. He won't go through with it—he'll betray you. He has no loyalties."

The Admiral smiled in the background.

Behind the old, white face paint, the Mistress's face was beginning to suffuse red with anger. "Why are you not grateful for your life? I saved you, countless times, first from the ocean and then from the Admiral!"

"And you're sending me back to him now!" Katara snarled, "You've delivered the entire island right into his grasp! He'll take Suyan, and he'll kill her first. Then it's my turn, and the Emperor's! You were wrong to trust him. You were wrong to lie to me."

"Ignorance is bliss, Katara. I was protecting you! I let you keep your innocence. I let you stay on the path you wanted, the path you chose—"

"I chose nothing! I didn't choose to be raised this way, on this island. I didn't choose to become an assassin. The only thing I did choose to do was _not_ to kill the Emperor, and as of now, it's the only thing that I've ever done right in my life," Katara shouted back. She felt an anger burning inside her, fueling her mind and her body—she was thinking clearly again. She knew who she was again.

"Your weakness, your so-called 'right' decision to keep the Emperor alive was what pushed the Admiral to demand Suyan in the first place!" the Mistress raged. She was no longer the calm, motherly figure she'd been moments before.

At any other time, Katara might have believed the Mistress's accusations. She might have taken the blame upon herself, felt guilty for Suyan's predicament. But there was to be no guilt, no blame now. The Mistress had orchestrated this—it was her fault, and her fault only. Katara was not selfish enough to think that she could have changed anything, that she was at all important to the grander scheme of things. The Admiral had planned from the beginning to have everything—the Emperor, Kyoshi, and Suyan. The Mistress had been tricked, as surely as Katara had been tricked.

"You're wrong," Katara said calmly, "it's not my fault. It never was." Katara looked at the Mistress, and if there was a love in her eyes, it was the love of nostalgia; not of what _used to be_, but what _could have been_.

The Mistress could see it, and knew what it meant. "Don't hate me," she whispered, and she sounded like the child, the one desperate for her mother's love.

Then she seemed to stumble forward, a sudden twist of the body, and for a moment, Katara thought the Mistress was going to embrace her, before the sound that accompanied the movement registered in Katara's ears: the sound of an intrusion upon flesh. The Mistress continued stumbling forward, and Katara could see the arrow now, the arrow protruding from her back like an evil growth sprouted from the heart. Suyan dropped to the ground, crying piteously; Katara felt a definite sense of relief that the arrow had not pierced through the Mistress's body to the child Avatar.

The Mistress fell to the ground and did not move again.

Katara whipped around, searching the trees bordering the beach. There was a flash of movement; a Fire soldier restringing a new arrow onto his bow and pointing it—pointing it at her. She remembered the soldiers at Luxing Fort who only answered to the Admiral; his own private army. There must be men part of the Admiral's employ, among the regular innocents of the Fire Navy who thought they were only here to put down the rebellion and rescue the Emperor.

"You were always the smart girl, Katara," the Admiral said, "how did you figure out I wasn't going to keep my promise? Perhaps you know me better than I thought. But we really need to get a move on if I'm to make it home for my own coronation."

Katara stared at him.

"It's your turn," he said, "and I'll make it easier if you would just tell me where the Emperor is."

Suyan was still on the sand, wailing and waving her tiny fists in the air. Zhao bent over as Katara watched in horror, and he picked the baby up with one hand.

"Curious," he said, "the fate of the world literally rests in my hands now," he turned to her, "I searched through every house in your damned village. Some of your people told me the Emperor and his Elites were locked in the prison—I went there personally, but either my informants were lying, or he'd already escaped with somebody's help."

"You can't tell," he continued, "But my hand, the hand holding your precious Avatar, is slowly getting warmer. Right now it's comfortable, the sort of body heat a child would expect, curled up next to a mother's breast. But if you don't start talking, Katara, then it could become the stinking, coal-hot heat of a furnace."

"I—I—don't," she stammered. Was this what it all came down to? "I don't know where he is—I didn't—"

"Don't lie to me," Admiral Zhao said gently, dangerously, "did you hide him in a hole somewhere? Did you give him a boat? Did you tell him to escape to another insignificant little island in the ocean? Did you send him home, to claim his throne?"

There was a bright glow emanating from his hand, stronger and stronger. Suyan squirmed and the pitch of her wail increased.

Katara struggled forward on her knees, wrenching her arms in her bonds, shrieking, "Stop it! Stop it, you monster—"

"Admiral Zhao!"

Zhao whipped around, momentarily distracted, "I told you not to bother me!" he snarled at his officer.

"But, Admiral, on the horizon, more Navy ships!"

Zhao turned, eyes intent, scanning the ocean. Indeed, there was a line of blocky, dark shapes gathering like storm clouds and moving ever closer to Kyoshi.

"Get me the telescope," he demanded, and he shoved Suyan into a nearby soldier's arms. "Keep an eye on her; don't let the Kyoshians, especially this one," he nodded at Katara, "get anywhere near her."

Katara stayed on the sand, feeling relief at this sudden change of events.

The telescope was brought to him; Zhao whipped it open, aiming it out towards sea. He saw something on the flags that he did not like.

"Damn," he swore, "it's Lord Iroh."

"Lord Iroh?" echoed an eager underling, "Perhaps he thinks we're needing reinforcements, shall I send a bird to tell him our takeover was successful—"

"He's not here with reinforcements, you dimwitted fool!" Zhao roared, snapping the telescope shut and throwing it at his lower officer, who ducked fearfully out of the way. Zhao began to mutter to himself, "Lord Iroh—he couldn't possibly have—but when he was no longer receiving messages—I knew I shouldn't have thrown his spy overboard so quickly—he'll want the Emperor, as soon as he gets here!"

Katara scooted over on the sand, closer to the soldier holding Suyan, if she could just knock his legs out from under him, maybe break his nose to distract him, and get Suyan as fast as possible—

Zhao strode over, grasping her arm and yanking her up hard—she bit back a cry of pain—he snatched Suyan from the soldier, and dragged them both towards the forest. Katara struggled against his one-handed grip, but he was a strong man, and his hand was growing steadily hotter until it was almost blistering her skin.

"I don't want Lord Iroh to set a single foot on this beach until I come back!" Zhao roared to his subordinates.

Several of them looked at each other apprehensively, "But Admiral Zhao, Lord Iroh won't be stopped, he'll want an explanation—"

"I don't care what you have to do! Lie to him, say there's an outbreak of a highly contagious disease—no, launch fireballs at him, I don't care! Just keep him away until I get back!" He pointed to a dozen soldiers wearing the armor of the Fire Empire, but with a peculiar symbol upon their helmets—a black insignia in the shape of a flame. Men from Zhao's personal army, loyal only to him, perhaps? "You, come with me!"

His remaining minions rushed over themselves, some to write a polite message to Lord Iroh about an epidemic sickness, some to prepare the catapults for a misguided assault.

Katara forced back tears as Zhao's grasp on her wrist began to burn her skin and the rope around her hands started to smoke and disintegrate: "Let me go!" she twisted against him, but he continued on into the forest, striding forward without pause, Suyan held in his other arm. The dozen or so Firebenders followed them silently.

They reached a clearing sometime later, and he threw her to the ground, keeping a hold on her braid, yanking her hair painfully by the roots. The ties around her wrists fell apart, having been burned off in Zhao's rage. He shoved Suyan into her arms.

"I know you're here!" Zhao screamed at the surrounding trees, "Come out, your Majesty! I have your little spy, your rebel woman, and I have the Avatar!"

He twisted up her hair; she couldn't help but let out a noise this time, her head pulled back, Suyan sobbing into her breast. Zhao fastened a hand around her neck, hot, she couldn't breathe—

"I'm here, Zhao."

Zhao snapped around, letting Katara drop to the ground.

_He_ stood there, and, oh!—behind him, Lt. Ensei, Kaz, Faozu, all of them holding weapons scavenged from the battle. Kaz held what looked like a farming rake. But even so, the soldiers Zhao had brought with him horrendously outnumbered them.

"You would raise your weapons against your own Emperor?" Zuko demanded imperiously.

"My lord!" Admiral Zhao said, spreading his arms wide and his smile wider, "We've been searching for you all night. It is our greatest pleasure to find you alive and unharmed."

"The lies from your mouth befit a traitor," Zuko said calmly, "but if you'd like to do this peacefully, then turn the command of the troops over to me immediately. Your betrayal will be dealt with in front of a military court as soon as we return to Kotzut."

"The Empire needs a strong lord to complete the expansion, to _end_ this foolish war, as the prophecy so goes." Zhao said, voice rising. "And who has ended it? Me."

"Ending the war doesn't mean you have to wipe out the enemy, Zhao!" Zuko said, stepping forward, "It doesn't mean you have to have absolute domination."

"What? What _other_ victory, what other perfect end to this war could there be other than the Empire's domination of the rebels—"

"There is peace, Zhao!" Zuko stopped, took a deep breath, and then continued, "We are... we are not as different a people as you might think."

Zhao was absolutely flabbergasted before he laughed, "See, Zuko, this is why you would never be the right Emperor for us, because you are a weak, powerless, peace-lover!"

"My being weak or strong has nothing to do with it, Zhao—I am Emperor, it is my birthright and I have been trained by my uncle for it since the day I was born. I am Emperor of Fire—I _am_ Fire!" Zuko did not boast it like a braggart—he stated it, he knew it, he felt it in his bones, in his slowly returning heat.

Zhao was silent, processing for a moment, before he smiled. "An Agni Kai, then, my Lord. Winner takes the throne. Loser dies."

Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Agreed."

"What? No!" Katara started forward, "Zuko, you can't! You can't bend, you can't—"

But the men were already circling each other; Zhao with a smirk on his lips, Zuko with rage in his eyes.

Zhao dealt the first blow (Katara flinched) a strong blast aimed at Zuko's right shoulder, making the younger man leap back to avoid the flame. Zhao had missed on purpose; he was testing his opponent's reflexes, judging his chances.

Zuko retaliated, a thin, weak stream of flame from his fist that dissipated in smoke as the end of it left him. Zhao laughed, derisively, mockingly, and swallowed up Zuko's minuscule attempt with a roaring column of fire that caught the Emperor's sleeve before he was able to avoid it. The remnants of the drug were still in Zuko's system; he couldn't summon enough heat to present a strong front against Zhao, and he was achingly out of practice. There was no doubt as to who the victor of this match would be.

But Katara knew Zhao would not end this quickly, with a snap of the wrist and a flame to the face; he was circling his prey, playing with his food, drawing out Zuko's torture. Zhao was enjoying it—it was perhaps, to him, the most fun he'd had in weeks.

Zuko was panting already, on the edge of his feet, trying to keep ahead of Zhao's blows while desperately trying to generate enough fire to mount an offensive. He was failing, that was obvious. He struggled to stay ahead, being pushed back until he was completely on the defensive, and holding that just barely. Zhao's smile widened. One misstep, one tiny miscalculation, and Zuko would meet his end. The Emperor was holding on by pure strength of will.

Then Katara saw it—Zhao aimed a blow with his left fist at Zuko's face. Zuko blocked it with crossed arms, face turned sharply to the side to avoid the flame, almost bending over backwards as Zhao forced him down and came around, with his hidden right hand, opened with a blossoming fire in the palm fast as lightning—Zuko's arms were occupied, his face turned away, he couldn't see what she could see.

She opened her mouth but he wouldn't hear her in time, but too late, too late—she leapt forward—_Not again, I won't mess up, I won't do it wrong—_she shoved Zuko away with one hand, turning to meet Zhao—_I'll fix it this time, I'll make it right—_Zhao's fist caught her on the side of the head (impact; blinding) before his sharp, iron shoulder guard followed, gouging through her abdomen—the pain ripped through her stomach, her _womb_, like a fiery serpent—was the baby coming?

Zuko's enraged scream echoed in her ears before she slipped, falling, falling into the cool stream of water, oh yes, please take me away...

* * *

She stood on the bank of a river, the bright sun shining overhead, reflecting on the bald, blue-arrowed head of a boy monk next to her. 

"No, Aang, like _this_," she said, lifting her arms to demonstrate the water whip. And as she bent, she saw her reflection in the river—dressed in black, bruised eye, blood on her hands, sliding down her knives—she dropped the riverwater, staring at the mirror image of herself.

She raised one clean hand (bloody, callused) running it across her smooth, unmarked face (brushing the black eye, the cut on her cheek) and over a rounded belly full of life (flat and trim from battle and exercise); "What?" she whispered.

"It's been a long time, Katara," he said, smiling.

"Aang," she said. Then again: "Aang." Who was this boy (my best friend) how did he know her name (a long time ago, yes.)

There was a tickling in her mind—once upon a time—she breathed and the air had a hint of smoke, earth, and the salty tang of the ocean. Why—yes—I remember.

An overbearing sorrow filled her and she lifted one hand towards him, "I missed you so much, Aang." Her voice broke, her fingers shook. Tears slid down her face.

And Aang was no longer by her side. He was above, around, everywhere—a grinning boy in monk's robes, a serious young woman with white face paint, a gentle bender in blue Water Tribe furs, and a tall, regal old man with a beard, sitting astride a dragon with a baby girl in front of him smiling and waving happily (_Suyan_?). There were more, surrounding them, there but not there.

She looked at him, at them, confused and so regretful (there'd been a quest, a hatred, a love, a death, a birth). "I'm sorry," she said.

Aang, all, smiled, "I forgave you—a long, long time ago."

She felt her belly contract; her hand fluttered over it. A baby's cry split the air, coming from everywhere, permeating her senses, _I'm coming, darling, I'm coming_.

"You're needed, Katara," said Aang.

She needed to get to her baby. Her child.

They smiled, "We need you."

* * *

A blinding rage filled his mind, his body, as Katara fell to the ground, blood spilling from her, over her, out of her—he let out a cry of rage, and, face distended in a mask of grief and sorrow, leapt at Zhao, hands outstretched to strangle, to kill—_how could you! I was going to save her this time, I was going to do it right, I was going to fix it—_Zhao grinned, evil incarnate—_you messed it up, you killed her I'LL KILL YOU! _

There was a child, a baby screaming somewhere, crying—

_It's raining_.

The sun broke through the clouds on the horizon, showering brilliant golden drops over them all.

* * *

She opened her eyes. 

The child's wail echoing in her ears (not Suyan's, because Suyan wasn't really _here_, she was back by the river, back with Aang, she _was_ Aang) she struggled to her feet, blood spilling over her hands from the cut over her stomach; it dripped, like water, boiling red water—the dark, the mysterious, the female, the primitive, the ancient life-mother.

She saw Zuko fixing his hands around Zhao's neck, saw Zhao raising his fists to throw him off and deliver a devastating blow to his attacker; Zuko wouldn't be able to dodge it—_don't touch him!—_the blood she cupped in her hands hardened, her anger and hatred and rage sharpening to a brilliant crimson point, molded and shaped into a weapon—an assassin's weapon.

She held in her palms a burning-cold knife made of her blood—her very self.

Zuko shouted as he was shoved backwards, Zhao readying himself for the final blow of flame, but his focus was pulled to the side, and he saw Katara, that fire-bright _red_ in her hands, above her head—his eyes widened, he pulled back, _duck— _

She hefted it in her right hand, her fingers curling around it with old familiarity—the body has memory—this was her specialty, what she'd trained for, what she'd prepared all her two lives for, assassination of the _rightest_ kind—she let fly.

Zhao flinched his body to the side. A brief moment; he could feel the knife whistling by him, barely grazing his cheek. He came up smiling.

"You missed," he said, and laughed, harsh and loud, drowning and echoing and swallowing.

"No, I didn't," she said.

Zhao stopped; smirked; yet he was still confused. "What?" Then he saw the answer in her eyes (the ocean, all-knowing, giving and taking, push and pull).

The Admiral whipped around—where _was_ he?—right there, that bastard Zuko, holding the bright weapon in hand—wait, stop!—

"The end," said Zuko, and he plunged it through Zhao's armour, through his skin, through his bones, his flesh, his blood, his soul.

His life, his death.

* * *

There was a meeting, in that forest. Of desperate eyes, smooth arms, brushing hands, urgent whispers, slippery blood. His hands over her face, her wound—"You're bleeding, too much bleeding"—her small, panting gasps: "I need the water; put me in the ocean, the ocean." 

He picked her up, holding her close—she let out a small cry, so faint he almost missed it. He ran blindly, as if chased by death, towards that glinting blue sea, past the confused soldiers, her shouting brother, and into the water, splashing up cool around his legs.

He lowered her gently, keeping her head above the waves until she said "All the way, all the way down," and it was hard, but he let go, watched her drifting away.

It seemed there were hands there, chubby child's fingers, a gnarled, wrinkled claw, a pale hand with a faintly glowing blue arrow—surrounded her wound, shut off the blood flow, kept it inside for her, saving her life. She floated underwater, eyes closed, hands crossed over her chest—_oh, please, please, give her back to me, let us have this one last chance_.

Katara inhaled then, inhaled a lungful of ocean, of sweet, clear air rushing through her body, a cleansing wind (a sense of innocent gray eyes smiling at her; a boy, a brother, and a journey).

_Time to go back_.

She woke, broke through the surface, splashing him as he rushed to her, worried and amazed at the same time; she pressed her cool cheek to his. The warmth from his body was so familiar—she'd felt it before, skin against skin, hot breath and release.

"Katara," he was almost choking, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

She smiled up at him: "I forgive you."

* * *

There was a rustling, and dim light against her eyelids. She sighed, stretched, and rolled onto her side, opening her eyes. She was on an army-style cot in a low tent, reminiscent of the sort she'd stayed in during her time in the Elites. The door flap wasn't fastened closed; a cool breeze blew in, bringing with it the scent of the ocean. She could hear the waves outside, and the floor of the tent was the soft sand of the beach. She turned, and saw Sokka sitting against one tent wall, head resting against his knees. 

"Good morning," he said, not looking up at her.

"Good morning," she said softly back. Morning again? Had it been a full day and night since they—the Mistress—since she'd—since she'd killed Zhao?

Sokka lifted his head to look at her. He was tired, with dark shadows on his face and sand in his hair.

"You just missed the Emperor," he said, "he left about a minute ago."

Katara wondered how her brother had known she was just about to ask where Zuko was—was it so obvious on her face?

"You look tired, Sokka," she said, changing the subject, "You look worse than tired. Dead."

He smiled wanly at her but did not move.

"Where's Suki?" she asked, throwing off the light blanket and sitting up straight, ignoring the slight, tiny ache (like a memory) in her abdomen. "And Suyan?"

"They're in the next tent over," said Sokka, and now his eyes were affixed to the canvas roof above them, "She's not talking to me, Katara. She's not talking to anyone. She just—she just sits there, or she eats, or she feeds Suyan. She doesn't even cry."

It hit her. The Mistress had been Suki's mother. Whatever misguided loyalties she might have had, or whatever failed agreements she might have made with the enemy, the Mistress was still Suki's mother. Katara couldn't imagine how Suki was taking this. The Mistress's betrayal and secrets had come out at the end; her affiliation with Zhao, her intended sacrifice of Suyan. Suki must be—Katara couldn't begin to think about what Suki was going through.

Katara got up silently, walking over to her brother, her feet sinking into the sand with every step. This beach—so many things—a day from her childhood, practicing swordplay with Suki and Sokka, treating it like a game, discovering her Waterbending—it seemed like lifetimes ago. Had they ever really been so carefree? It had been a dream, perhaps.

He was crying, silent tears; she slipped an arm around his chest, helped raise him from the ground and walk over to the cot. She lay him down on the spindly bed before covering him with the blanket. His breathing was ragged; torn.

There was a chipped jar by the bed, filled with fresh water, probably from the Fire Navy's stores, or perhaps from the wells in the village. She poured a bit over her hand, and wet Sokka's brow before letting her fingers rest on his forehead lightly. She was not such an accomplished bender that she could erase emotional scars, the hurt of the heart, but she could give a small moment of relief; of cool, forgetting touch. She put everything she had, the memories of long ago, of innocent youth, of the beach, the ocean, the sun, the rain, the trees—of his love for Suki, their first kiss, Suyan's laughter, and how, when Katara looked in the mirror with Sokka by her side, their eyes were the exact same shade of sea-blue.

His chest rose and fell evenly; she let her hand slip away, and she tiptoed silently to the tent opening, before bending down and leaving Sokka to sleep peacefully behind her.

She stood up straight, feeling the wind in her hair, and looked upon a quiet scene. It must have been an hour or so after dawn, judging from the light in the sky, and around her the beach was dotted with more tents like the one she'd stepped out of, in varying shades of dark red. There were small campfires dug in the sand, soldiers sitting next to them, setting firewood alight with a gentle flick of the fingers, nursing bowls of hot soup, chatting quietly or looking at the sky, immersed in their own thoughts. The only sounds came from soft conversation, the rush of the wind and waves, and the occasional low, pained moan from the infirmary tent on the far side of camp.

Katara turned to look behind her, towards where the beach met the forest, and saw something that caught her eye. She stepped closer—she hadn't been mistaken.

There he was, Zuko, washed and dressed in a light outfit of red and gold, talking to—what was his name—Iroh, his uncle. They stood there, on the edge of the trees, conversing. Iroh was talking, gesturing with one hand, and Zuko stood listening, head bowed slightly.

Katara stared; the scene was so normal, usual, perfect.

Then Iroh turned, saw her, and smiled. Zuko, watching his uncle, did the same, and his eyes widened upon seeing her; he took an urgent step forward toward her, before he seemed to remember something, and stopped.

Iroh beckoned with his hand; she obeyed automatically, walking to them, and stopping before she got too close. Inside, there was a deep part of her that wanted to step closer, closer until she could slip her hand into his, run her fingers over his scar, and ask him if he was all right.

But she didn't, and if he had wanted to do something of the same sort, he did not reveal it.

"Hello, Katara," Iroh said in a kind voice, "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded. "What happened after we—after I—after I was—" her eyes darted to Zuko; he did not look away before she did.

"You mean, after Zuko brought you back, unconscious, from the sea?" Iroh said, grinning widely.

Katara tried not to blush. She purposefully did not look at Zuko. "Yes," she said.

Iroh sobered. "It was quite a strange turn of events—I was on my way here after I had my tea and discovered a prophecy in the leaves at the bottom of my cup—now don't just brush it aside, Zuko," here Zuko had rolled his eyes; Katara covered a smile, "because wasn't I right in the end? Anyway, I was met with a curious opposition. First, the soldiers on the beach kept firing their catapults at me, even though the Empire's flag was clearly visible on my ship, while at the same time I received a messenger bird from one of Zhao's officers that told of an epidemic on the island, a debilitating disease that was highly contagious. I didn't believe a word of it. But by the time I managed to evade the fireballs and reach the island, Zhao had run off with you and the Avatar—Zuko was nowhere to be found, according to the men Zhao had left behind. We followed his tracks into the forest, and discovered Zhao's body. It was so very strange—he had been stabbed, but we couldn't find a knife, or any sort of weapon. There was a lot of blood, a mixture of his own and a darker, deeper ocher that stained Zhao's skin and couldn't be removed from the doctor's clothes."

Iroh paused and gave first Zuko a look, then Katara. "Zuko hasn't explained to me this mystery yet; he keeps saying that it's your decision whether or not anybody else knows about it."

Katara was pleased that Zuko had thought of her, and kept his mouth closed on the subject. She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to share what had happened back in that forest clearing with Zhao—indeed, she wasn't even positive that what she thought had happened really _had_ happened.

"Zhao's personal soldiers had fled, but we caught them before they managed to escape off the island," continued Iroh.

"And Suyan?" Katara broke in here. "Where was she?"

"That was even stranger," Iroh said, glancing at Zuko, "We found her here after Zuko brought you back. She was on the beach, at the very edge of the water, playing and splashing in the waves. She was laughing and not at all worried or sick or screaming like a child normally would in a situation such as that. She's a special child."

"She is," Katara echoed, and remembered, with a start, her original intention. "I—I have to see to Suki—her mother, you know—and Suyan—" she made a motion towards the next tent down the beach, the one Sokka had said Suki and Suyan were in, as Iroh understood and nodded graciously.

But Zuko made a move forward, and brushed against her hand with his own, so gently she almost didn't feel it. "About," he said, haltingly, "about what happened, with Zhao, and in the ocean, did you—did you see—did you feel—"

"Later," she said, quietly and carefully. She wasn't ready, not yet.

He accepted her answer, stepping back and clasping his hands behind his back, making a small, deferential bow, just a slight bend of the upper body. For her.

"I can wait for you," he said.

She smiled; quick and thankful, before she turned and left.

A few hours later, she reemerged from Suki's tent to tell her brother that Suki had begun to speak again, and Suyan was whining for her father.

Sokka left the tent, eyes bright and eager to see his small family; Katara stayed behind, sitting on the cot, alone. She was sad—memories would come from this, both painful and yet relieving—but she was not worried.

There would be time, later, to talk to Zuko, to talk to Iroh and Ensei and Kaz.

There would be time, later, for peace.

* * *

**A/N:** This ain't the end. Epilogue coming up. There'll be a lot longer author's note that goes with that detailing all my titillating thoughts. 

(Title from kick-ass, totally Zutara song: _Heaven Coming Down_ by The Tea Party, graciously provided by Rashaka, whose birthday it is today! HAPPY 22ND, DARLING!)

And I deleted my Zutara-centric drabbles, _52 Flavours for Fire and Water_, because it sucked and just. No. If I fix them all, I might reupload them again someday.

**Many thanks to:** melodiee, witheringheights, kawaiilyn, jakia, spleefmistress, manarunigha, for a wonderful job betaing!

And last but definitely not least: Akavertigo. Because she's. Well. You know. Akavertigo.

(And because her AU Zutara fic, **Tempest in a Teacup**, is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me in the course of my short, teenage life. Any true Zutara shipper who doesn't read it should be shot. Up the ass. With cocaine.)


End file.
